Troublesome Tails
by A Trail Of Whispers
Summary: AU. James and Lily survive that night on Halloween to raise Harry through infancy, adolescence and beyond, with Remus and Sirius by their side to help support them and to, of course, create some little antics and mischief of their own.
1. Coming to Terms

**A.N**. Okay, so I've decided to re-publish this fic but it's taking a slightly different turning than my previous one, and I hope you prefer this one than my other one, and if you do, please write me a little **review **at the bottom of the page!

**Disclaimer: **I own natta.

**Contact: **satansbowtie**dot**tumblr**dot**com - **replace dot with **.

_Enjoy =)_

* * *

It was a cold Halloween Night, and the last thing James Potter wanted to be doing was stuck inside a house with nothing to do. He wouldn't let his wife know just how much the isolation was killing him, but he was certain she had a good idea and was feeling the same way.

On the night of Halloween James was stretched out on the sofa in the living room, gazing out of the window, creating colourful wisps of smoke emerge from out of his wand to amuse the one-year-old boy in blue pyjamas sat at his feet. The one-year-old boy sat at his feet was his son: Harry Potter. The reason why they were in such strict isolation. He was wanted. Someone wanted to kill him.

James was nonchalant, relaxing on the sofa with his eyes closed when his wife rushed into the room. "James - James I saw someone out the back garden."

James jumped up and threw his wand away. It landed on the sofa and he scooped up Harry, passing him to Lily Potter - his wife. "I'll go and have a look."

At that moment, the door burst open. Lily clutched Harry tight to her chest and James grabbed Lily's arm. Lord Voldemort was over the threshold as James came sprinting down the hall. James had forgotten to pick up his wand.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!"

Purple light filled the cramped hallway, it lit the pram pushed against the wall, it made the banisters glare like lightning rods, and James Potter fell like a marionette whose strings were cut.

Lily ran up the stairs, tears flooding her eyes. She had just lost her husband and in a few minutes, she would lose her son.

She ran down the landing into Harry's nursery. First she put him in his cot and then began piling furniture up against the door. She didn't know what else to do. She could have escaped out the window - that would have been the smart thing to do, but she was in no state of mind to be thinking straight. She couldn't even see out of her eyes they were so filled with tears. She knew the barricade wouldn't keep out Lord Voldemort, but it was worth a try.

Lord Voldemort forced the door open, cast aside the chair and boxes hastily piled against it with one lazy wave of his wand and there she stood, the child in the cot. At the sight of him she threw her arms wide, as if this would help, as if in shielding him from sight she hoped to be chosen instead.

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"

"Stand aside, you silly girl . . . stand aside, now."

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead –"

"This is my last warning –"

"Not Harry! Please . . . have mercy . . . have mercy. . . . Not Harry! Not Harry! Please – I'll do anything –"

"Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!"

He could have forced her away from the crib, but it seemed more prudent to finish them all. . . .

The purple light flashed around the room and she dropped like her husband. The child had not cried all this time: He could stand, clutching the bars of his crib, and he looked up into the intruder's face with a kind of bright interest, perhaps thinking that it was his father who hid beneath the cloak, making more pretty lights, and his mother would pop up any moment, laughing. He pointed the wand very carefully into the boy's face: He wanted to see it happen, the destruction of this one, inexplicable danger.

The child began to cry: It had seen that he was not James. He did not like crying, he had never been able to stomach the small ones whining in the orphanage –

"Avada Kedavra!"

And then he broke: He was nothing, nothing but pain and terror, and he must hide himself, not here in the rubble of the ruined house, where the child was trapped and screaming.

...

When Sirius Black received the owl that his best friends had been found unconscious he was highly intoxicated and was in the middle of entertaining a lady friend he had brought round his house. He had a half drunk bottle of Jack Daniels and a half naked nineteen-year-old in his living room, but that didn't stop him from throwing them both out of his flat to go to Hogwarts to see his friends. The bottle of Whiskey was thrown into the half-dressed girl's arms as well as her clothes and a kiss on her cheek. Sirius doubted he'd ever see her again.

He'd met the girl in a nightclub and couldn't even remember her name. It was her friend he had first paid interest in, but she had thrown a drink over his head.

He apparated to Hogsmede like instructed and landed in a dark street with dimly lit lights. He looked around and gathered his bearings. Once he knew where he was, he jogged down the streets to Honeydukes, found the key that was 'hidden' in a plant pot and unlocked the door like he had done so many other times. He locked the door back and put the key above it. Quietly he moved behind the counter and opened the trapdoor, climbed into the cellar and closed it once he was in.

He jumped down the stairs two at a time and pulled back the object that concealed the entrance to Hogwarts. It first lead into a narrow passageway that was poorly lit, and once Sirius closed the door behind him, it was pitch black. Sirius made light appear by his wand and sprinted as quickly as his lungs would allow him down the passage. The light from his wand helped him but not much; he still stumbled and fell over his feet as he ran.

Once he arrived at Hogwarts he was doubled over, his vision dizzy, clutching his sides and panting ferociously. He climbed out of the statue and stumbled around Hogwarts, out of breath and still rather drunk. He regretted the drinks that he had had, but he wasn't to know what would happen after he had been drinking and brought Jessica to his apartment (or was it Jasmine)?

He navigated his way to the Headmaster's Office easily where nine other people resided. Five of them he recognised as Aurors, while the others were Remus Lupin, Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall and the Minister of Magic. No one looked up when Sirius arrived apart from Remus, who gave him a grave nod.

"Wh - What's happened?"

Albus Dumbledore bowed his head. Albus was a wise, intelligent and _honest_ man. He wouldn't lie even if lying would benefit you in the situation. He might not tell you certain things, but he definitely would not lie. "Minister, would you and your Aurors mind leaving us?"

The Minister looked like he was going to argue, but dismissed his Aurors away and left with them. Albus turned to the young gentlemen, peering at them over his glistening half-moon spectacles. His hair was long, white and wispy, he looked old but he had aged with intelligence and wisdom that his looks greatly acknowledged.

"It seems that a few hours ago, Lord Voldemort did what we all feared he would; he went for James and Lily."

Sirius' face dropped. "What? No – no _surely_ not – they can't be-"

"Albus," began Remus Lupin with worry. "You must be wrong-"

Remus Lupin went to school with James and Lily Potter and Sirius Black. He was best friends with James and Sirius since first year, and their friendship deepened when the two discovered that Remus was a werewolf, bitten by Fenrir Greyback when Remus was only a toddler. Remus had had to suffer with his lycanthropy almost all his life and the awful wounds on his face were evidence enough to show that he hated what happened. They were painful and unintentionally self-inflicted. Remus was always tired due to his nights leading up to, and after, the Full Moon and the effects. His skin was sallow and his hair greying and thin. His green eyes looked hollow, lost with age and deep with horrors. He was also very thin, too.

"No, I'm not," said Dumbledore. "But when the Aurors arrived they discovered that James and Lily were not dead."

"Not – not _dead_?" Sirius stammered.

"No," Albus repeated. "_Not_ dead. Just in a comatosed state. Madam Pomfrey is running tests on them now, the two of them should be fine."

"And what about the boy?" Asked Minerva McGonagall. "What about Harry?"

Minerva McGonagall had been the boys' Head of House while they were at Hogwarts. They didn't always get along; Minerva putting them in regular detention, but nevertheless; they remained her favourite students _years_ after they left Hogwarts.

Minerva was an elderly witch and had taught for many years before she was granted the Head of House title. She was the Transfiguration Professor and earned the job after Albus Dumbledore became Headmaster. She was very grateful to be following after such a great Wizard, and very fervent to fill his place - which she succeeded in doing very well. She was always very concerned for her students, ex and present, and that was definitely unmistakable in the Potters'; she had offered to look after Harry herself while James and Lily went into hiding, but no one in the Order were willing for her to risk her life.

Albus didn't reply, and Minerva put her hand over her mouth. "He's - he's not-" She couldn't bring herself to say it. She dared not suggest that the little boy was dead already.

"No," Albus clarified. "No he's not dead. But he has a scar, just above his left eye on his forehead. The scar is evidence of Dark Magic being performed. I have one on my knee, I earned it thirty-years ago and it has yet to fade."

"A-And that's it?" Sirius asked. "That's all?"

Sirius Black had always been the most handsome one in the Marauders. His long brown hair and grey eyes and impish humour made girls throw themselves at his feet. He had the choice of any girl that he wanted when he came across them. Needless to say that before James got engaged to Lily, he was the most _experienced_ one in the group - something that was envied by other boys. But Sirius took everything in his stride; he was nonchalant, care free and humorous. He did not have a bad bone in his body.

"And what about James and Lily, Albus?"

Albus cleared his throat. "James and Lily were the victims of a homemade dark arts curse, courtesy of Lord Voldemort. He did not choose to kill the Potter's at the time, merely dismiss them until he had killed Harry. I think he wanted Harry dead before he killed James and Lily, then go back and finish the job."

"Why would he want that?" Sirius asked. "Why not just kill them first? What difference does it made?"

Albus said nothing, he just shook his head. "I do not know."

There was an eerie silence across the room. It was three o'clock in the morning, but neither Sirius nor Remus had ever felt more awake. They dreaded what would happen the following morning; would Lord Voldemort come back for them? Would he kill every student in Hogwarts _just_ to reach Harry and finish the job intended? What would be printed in the Daily Prophet? How would people react?

"But what I can tell you is that the curse is only temporary. I'm afraid that I do not know _how_ temporary until Madam Pomfrey finishes off the tests. All I can estimate, knowing Lord Voldemort, is that the effects could last up to a year."

"A _year_?" Minerva repeated. "But Albus, that's _impossible_."

"We thought it would be impossible for him to infiltrate the Fidelius Curse, remember Minerva? Anything is possible if Lord Voldemort sets his mind to it."

"What, so he didn't set his mind enough to kill Harry, did he?" Sirius asked derisively and Albus did not answer him. "Where is he? Where's Harry - where's James and Lily? I want to see them."

"Not until Madam Pomfrey has finished her diagnosis," Minerva settled.

"NO!" Sirius yelled. "NO! I want to see my friends _now_."

Remus got up and put a hand on his friends shoulder. "We can do. Just keep _calm_. We have more important things to discuss in the time being."

"Like what," Sirius spat. "What is _possibly _more important than our best friends being comatosed by Voldemort?"

"Finding Pettigrew? Putting the Death Eaters to justice? Protecting Alice, Frank and Neville? Discussing where Harry's going to live while James and Lily are - are - are like they are."

Sirius spat on the Headmaster's floor. "Fucking _bullshit_! Why did this happen to them? What did they ever do wrong? Merlin, when I find Peter Pettigrew I'm going to cut out his liver and I'm going to hang him off the Whomping Willow with it. How _dare_ he sell out James and Lily? THEY WERE HIS FRIENDS."

Remus restrained Sirius by putting two hands on his shoulder. He looked at him, eye-to-eye. "Padfoot, _please_ calm down."

"I can't calm down," he hissed. "This is ridiculous."

"I know," Remus soothed. "I know it is. But we have to be strong for Harry's sake - if he sees his Godfather in fits of rage he's going to know something's wrong."

"Which comes to Remus' point about where Harry will reside," Albus interrupted. "Minerva and I have discussed this, and after a lot of reassuring, Minerva reluctantly agreed to the idea that the best place for Harry to live will be with his Uncle and Aunt in Surrey."

"Excuse me?" Remus repeated. "The best place for him to live is with Sirius - have you even _met_ Petunia Dursley, Albus? With all due respect, you're an extremely intelligent Wizard, but this has got to be one of the _stupidest_ things you have ever said."

"It's for the best."

"No, what's for the best will be for Harry to be loved and to live with James and Lily. _Surely_ you're not planning on leaving him with the Dursley's full-time _even_ when James and Lily have recovered?" Albus and Minerva made no response. "THIS IS ABSURD! Leave him with the Dursley's? They'd never agree to this."

"I'm afraid they'll have no say-"

"-You expect Lily to just sit back and watch her sister raise her son like a servant?" Remus spluttered. "You expect James not to go round there, the minute he's recovered and demand that Harry be given back to him? Because if you think James and Lily won't give Harry up without a fight then I'm sorry Albus, but you're out of your mind."

"He's right Albus. What Harry needs best is his parents love."

"What Harry needs best is safety and security, and the Dursley's can provide that."

"CAN YOU EVEN HEAR YOURSELF?" Sirius roared. "Harry will be the most famous boy in the Wizarding World, and to give him to the Dursley's would be like to ship him to another country. He won't be respected there, he won't be loved there. Sure, I'm irresponsible and I once left Harry on the Knight Bus and he ended up in Scotland, but at least I _love_ him and would give him the attention he needs!"

"He's right; the Dursley's couldn't give Harry that."

Albus didn't say anything. "They could come for him; it would be dangerous, Sirius."

"So you're willing to let Petunia, Vernon and _their_ one-year-old son be attacked then?"

"That's not what I mean; Sirius, you're important to the Order of the Phoenix. The Dursley's would prove no threat to Death Eaters; they would be almost impossible to find."

"Death Eaters?" Sirius repeated. "_Death Eaters_ aren't the problem here; it's _Voldemort_ they ought to worry about."

Albus smiled, and it was odd that he did and it made Sirius question why. "Because it seems, that the good thing to come out of this, is that Lord Voldemort has been defeated. For now, that is."

"He's been _defeated_?" Remus repeated. "Once and for all?"

"As far as I can tell. But these things can never be clarified so prematurely to the event. For now, I shall say that Lord Voldemort has been defeated. But whether or not the effects of last night are permanent I cannot comment. I think the news will be a relief to many ears, and there will be celebrations at Hogwarts and across the world when news gets out. We shall assemble the students tomorrow morning - Minerva, alert the Head of Houses please and lead Sirius and Remus down to the Infirmary. I think they'll want to be reunited with their friends and perhaps Madam Pomfrey can shed some light on this situation."

"Yes Albus."

"Thank you."

They left the Headmaster's Office quite quickly. Both were anxious to see the Potters', and despite their comatose state, Sirius and Remus were beyond glad that they would eventually recover and that Harry was safe, sound and unscathed.

It had been awhile since both men had walked the corridors of Hogwarts, but once Minerva had left them to go up to Professor Flitwick's Office; they both easily navigated their way down to the Hospital Wing. They were still in awe of the castle: the moving staircase, the glimmering torchlight's and the animate paintings sleeping in their frames. Sirius remembered the countless nights he spent wandering down the hallways and corridors, returning from the kitchens or late nights out at Hogsmede. Sirius grinned at the fond memories with James and Lily and thought about the future Harry would get up to.

They reached the Hospital Wing, and like they had done so many times before, walked in without a word. Sirius had stolen so many ointments and bandages and potions over the previous ten years that he was surprised the school still had enough money to fund treatments.

James and Lily looked as if they were sleeping. There was no sign they had just been the victims of the Darkest Wizard of their age, they merely looked as if they were in a peaceful, undisturbed sleep. Sirius took Lily's hand in his and kissed it lightly, and rubbed James' arm.

"Don't worry guys; I'll look after Harry for you."

"That'll scare them; not comfort them," Remus joked. "But I'm serious you two: Harry will be in good hands."

"Even though he hasn't got a Mother and a Father at the moment, having two substitute Fathers will be just as good. Even better than having Lily around actually; we'll let Harry do whatever he wants."

"Eat what he wants."

"Stay out as late as he wants."

"Go to Knockturn Alley."

"Sleep with as many _girls_ as he wants."

"Or boys," Remus smiled. "We won't mind."

Sirius laughed. "Joking aside, Harry will be in the best of hands until you two get better. Speaking of which, where _is_ the little Hero?"

Remus looked around the Hospital Wing. Every bed was emptied and Madam Pomfrey's office seemed empty. There was no sign that Harry was anywhere near. "I don't know, with Madam Pomfrey probably. Hey, you don't think James and Lily are going to stay in the Hospital Wing _permanently_, do you?"

"Nah, they'll be moved to Mungo's."

"But at St. Mungo's they could risk an attack. Surely Albus will argue that it's safer for them at Hogwarts."

"They can't rent the Hospital Wing to them."

Remus shrugged. "I think they're worth it."

"They're _always_ worth it."

Half an hour passed until Rubeus Hagrid, the gargantuan gamekeeper of Hogwarts, arrived with tiny little baby Harry Potter in his arms. He carried Harry over to James, Sirius, Lily and Remus. Sirius and Remus were too enthralled in talking with James and Lily to notice the giant carrying the baby in his arms. It wasn't until Harry let out a shriek of delight did Sirius and Remus turn their attentions to them.

"Harry!" Sirius exclaimed.

Both men rushed forward to see the young boy. Like Albus had told them, Harry had a scar above his left eye on his forehead. Remus winced, stating that even _that_ was a hurtful wound. Sirius just stared at it. It was still blood red raw but not a single drop of blood poured out of it. It was in the shape of a lightning bolt. It was as if the scar was _purposely_designed for Harry and the lightning shape had some sort of... _significance_.

"Hullo Sirius. I've bin lookin' after little 'Arry for Professor Dumbledore until you arrived. Well I suppose you should take 'im now," but before he did, Hagrid planted a light kiss on Harry's forehead _away_ from his scar. "'orrible thing, ain't it? At least that's the worst to come outta all o' this - 'as Professor Dumbledore told you 'ow long James and Lily are gonna be like this?"

"Not yet," Remus answered darkly. "He said it could be up to a year."

"A year?" Hagrid repeated loudly - almost loud enough to arouse the Potters' from their comatose state. "_Surely_ not..."

"That's what he said," said Sirius, gently rocking Harry to and fro. "I don't believe this."

"Believe that Dumbledore's trusted you to look after Harry?" Remus joked.

"No - that Peter would turn over James and Lily to Voldemort."

"Wha'? Pe'er Pe'igrew couldn't do summit like that! You must be mistaken - I though' _you_ were the Secret Keeper, Sirius!"

"We switched the other day," Sirius explained. "I - I thought the Death Eaters were going to come after me - to _find_ me and torture me and interrogate me over where James and Lily were hiding. I was going to go into hiding myself, and I thought, that by allowing Wormtail to be Secret Keeper, the Death Eaters wouldn't think for a minute that we'd trust such a slime ball like him. But he was already a Death Eater by the time we trusted him... I can just imagine the look on his little fat face when he was able to sell them out – but James was his best friend - he loved Harry to pieces."

"Being scared can do stuff tah people, Sirius. You know dat."

Sirius was shaking, and all he could do was nod his head for the minute that seemed to pass. "I'm going to take Harry back to mine, and in the morning, I'm going to see if I can't find Pettigrew and kill him-"

"-Sirius," Remus began. "Is it _wise_ for you to take Harry home in this state? You're half-drunk and full of rage-"

"-I'm _fine_, Remus," Sirius cut across. "I'm fine. Just - just _owl_ me or send a Patronus if you hear any news on James or Lily. I need to get Harry to bed."

"You don't have a crib-"

"He can sleep in my bed; I won't be sleeping for the night."

"Sirius-"

"-I'm _fine_ Remus, honest to Merlin I am. If I need any help I'll call over Alice and get her to look after Harry." Even still, Remus cast Sirius a sceptical glance. "I'll be fine Remus - I promise."

...

_DARK LORD CONQUERED AT LAST._

_The words every journalist has been longing to write and it seems that almost after twenty years of scaring the Wizard World, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, has at last, been defeated._

_By a one-year-old boy, no less._

_Late into the night of 31st October in Godric's Hollow, it was reported that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named broke into James (21) and Lily (21) Potter's house set in mind to kill the couple and their one-year-old son, Harry, but was incapable of doing so._

_Lily and James Potter - both Head Boy and Head Girl whilst at Hogwarts - went into hiding just a week before their house's enchanted spell was penetrated by none other than He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. We are not sure which enchantments were placed upon the house, but we are sure that two talented Witches and Wizards like themselves were capable of casting the strongest of spells to keep their son - and each other - safe._

_It was Harry - a mere one-year-old boy that the Darkest Wizard of our generation was seeking. Our sources indicate that he got past the Potter's with a special, homemade dark curse which caused them to be in an ill state, and moved onto kill Harry using the Killing Curse but was unable. It is implied that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did in fact; use the Killing Curse on the boy, but it seems that Harry was strong enough to defend himself from the curse - the only Wizard known to have survived it._

_It remains a mystery how He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named found and attacked the house, but we are pleased to announce that each of the Potters' are alive and well. Though James and Lily remain in a comatose state for the foreseeable future, Harry James Potter resides with his Godfather: Sirius Black (21) in a safe house nearby the Potters'._

This was just a snippet of one of thousands of stories being told by various media reporters concerning the Potters' story. Sirius had been offered hundreds of galleons for the whole truth, but he had rudely refused them all. Remus had refused them all, also. Albus Dumbledore, though being offered _thousands_ of galleons for a short tale, politely declined and offered each reporter in for a lemon drop, to which it was their turn to politely refuse.

Albus told Sirius and Remus to enjoy themselves; James and Lily were fine and Harry was alive. But they had a one-year-old child to take care of now, and partying incessantly wasn't very good parenting. Just one morning had passed and Sirius considered himself fully educated in the art of parenting. He didn't understand what all of James' complaining was about; parenting was a breeze.

Sirius sat with his feet up on the sofa, Daily Prophet stretched out on his lap. He gazed up at the ceiling, staring at the cracks in the plaster. His wand and Harry lay right beside him. He looked pretty nonchalant, if you were to peer through his window at that moment, but inside his handsome head, thoughts were racing round his mind a hundred miles a minute. His face was expressionless. His feelings, however, were not.

"You know what Harry," Sirius began. "As Godfather, I'm going to make a promise to you. Not the promise that I'm going to look after you always - none of that crap - but that I'm going to find the man that did this to your parents and I'm _personally_ going to hunt him down and kill him. Is that alright, Harry?" Harry gurgled in response. "I'll take that as a yes."

Peter Pettigrew. Peter _flaming_ Pettigrew. Sirius would give anything to go after that little rat and finish him off once and for all. But Albus had given him strict instructions not to leave his flat unless there was an emergency. Sirius wondered if plotting the death of his ex-best friend would clarify as an emergency, but Sirius only had to imagine the look Albus would give him and realised that it was a bad idea.

He, Peter, James and Remus had been best friends all through Hogwarts - they had trusted each other with their lives and in James' case, their son. Sirius was pissed off that one of them had even _thought_ about abandoning them. If he was honest, he had expected it to be Remus.

He felt _awful_ at the mere memory. He thought it would be Remus who would betray them. Remus, who had taken so much shit in his life about being a werewolf. Sirius had thought so because Lord Voldemort recruited werewolves and made them feel welcome. What would Sirius have done? Would Sirius have stayed with the side that treated werewolves and people like him as crap? Or would he had gone to the side that truly welcomed him. Remus must have had his doubts, Sirius was sure, but Remus was a smart, brave and sensible man - more so than Sirius. It was Remus who should have been made Godfather, not him.

But yet, with Harry sitting beside him, Sirius felt like a Father, like someone depended on him. For the past ten years of his life Sirius had always been against parenting and long commitments. He had dumped girls in the past if they ever even _mentioned_ a life after Hogwarts with him. But now what was he thinking? Did he actually _want_ children? He had loved taking care of Harry these past six hours. Yes, he had looked after Harry for longer than six hours in the past, but he always knew he would have to give him up to James and Lily eventually. Now who knew when he was going to have to give up Harry again? _If ever..._

_No, they're going to come round; they_ _have to; it's James and Lily. There's no other option._

**_..._**

Albus Dumbledore left his office and Hogwarts to pay a visit to Sirius Black. He knew that it was important to inform Sirius of the good news and later, Remus. No doubt Sirius was still awake - _frantically _awake and shaken from the events of the preceding night. And as Albus suspected, Sirius sat on his living room sofa staring into the fireplace when Albus stepped out of it. When he did, Albus had never seen Sirius so alarmed; he jumped up and held out his wand, guarding Harry from the intruder.

"You _scared_ me," Sirius exclaimed. "Couldn't you have _knocked_?"

"My apologies," Albus defended. "I come bearing good news."

"I could do with some of that," Sirius remarked, throwing his wand down on the sofa. "Do you want a drink?"

"I don't think you should let your guard down so promptly, Sirius; what if I was a Death Eater trying to attack you?"

"Well you're not otherwise you would have done so by now..." Albus cleared his throat. "Do we _really_ have to go through this _every time_ we see each other?"

"For now, yes."

Sirius groaned. "_Fi-ne_ – what's your sister called?"

"Sirius, please - anyone can find that out."

"Alright then: what did your brother _aspire_ to do for an occupation before he became the Landlord of the Hog's Head?"

"Better. He was a goat herder - as strange as a career choice that would be. Now it's my turn: what's your Patronus?"

"A dog," he replied. "Now will you tell me what's going on?"

"Please, sit."

Albus gestured towards Sirius' own sofa. Sirius sat back down in the place he had previously occupied right beside Harry and his wand. Albus tucked in his robes and took the vacant armchair by the fire. He complimented the fireplace to begin with and then moved onto the greater matter: "Madam Pomfrey has completed her diagnosis. She thinks Lily and James will be fully-conscious again in thirty-seven days."

"_Thirty-seven days_?" Sirius echoed. "Well that's -" he began counting on his fingers until he reached the desired date. "The tenth of December!"

"That's not long yet. I thought I should come and give you some good news; you could do with some positive news after last night."

"I think we all could."

"It couldn't have been easy for you," Albus commiserated.

"It wasn't easy for any of us. Albus, it seems that everyone I seemed to go to Hogwarts with slipped under my fingers; first Mary gets shipped off to the other side of the world on business and the Longbottom's are... _where-they-are_, Pettigrew turned out to be a traitor and now Lily and James are comatosed! Marlene's _dead_ so what's next Albus - _who's_ next?"

"We're safe now; a vast majority of the Death Eater's have been captured and no permanent damage has been done-"

"-Apart from to Alice and Frank," Sirius muttered darkly. "How could we just _forget_ about them? They were in as much danger as James and Lily."

"Voldemort didn't go after them and he got defeated. We thought they were safe."

"Now you think that _we're_ safe but for how long? You don't know when Voldemort's going to return, it could be any week or any day! None of us are safe yet Albus, not really!"

Albus rose. "I only came to give you good news; I didn't mean to agitate you."

Sirius repositioned himself so that his right ankle rested on his left knee. "You know where the door is."

...

James and Lily were moved from the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts to a private ward at St. Mungo's. They were put on the top floor for 'special' patients with strict security and restricted access. Sirius and Remus visited the Potters' everyday and took Harry on regular visits, but the visit they dreaded the most was the one that occurred three days after the Potter's attack and the day of Albus' visit, and it concerned another attack.

"James, Lily... There's something you need to know. We've been told you can hear us, so I think it's better you hear it sooner from us rather than later from the Daily Prophet or a Nurse or someone else. But soon, downstairs, you're going to be joined by someone else from the Order."

"Sadly it's not Pettigrew who suffered _fatal_ _accidental _attacks-"

"-_Padfoot_," Remus hissed. "Can you not?"

"Sorry Moony."

"_Thank you_," he continued. "This is pretty hard to say but Frank and Alice Longbottom have been attacked."

"Way to put it bluntly Remus."

"Will you be quiet?" Remus snapped.

"It's someone's time of month," Sirius muttered under his breath.

Remus didn't reply; Sirius was correct. "So, anyway... Last night while they were sleeping, four Death Eaters - Bartemius Crouch J.R, Bellatrix, Rodolphous and Rabastan Lestrange - broke into their home and tortured them incessantly with the Cruciatus Curse to give them details on the Order of the Phoenix. Obviously it was an impulsive, unplanned attack because they didn't expect or plan for when before Alice went to defend her husband, she sent a Patronus to Albus telling him what was going on. So the entire Order apparated to the Longbottom's house, captured the Lestrange's and Crouch and now they're due to be tried in Azkaban as soon as possible. Lucky for Neville, he was staying with his Grandmother Augusta while this happened so he is safe and will be living with him for now on as Frank and Alice have been admitted _permanently_ to St. Mungo's which is unfortunate."

"Really?" Sirius scoffed. "I thought it was fantastic."

"Don't be so sarcastic, Padfoot," Remus complained. "This is _serious_."

"Pardon the pun," he coughed. "So speaking of Death Eaters, I managed to get my hands on a copy of Death Eaters captured or dead from Miss. Amelia Bones."

"How did you manage that?" Remus asked, clearly impressed.

Sirius shrugged. "She's got a niece Harry and Neville's age - only had to play the sympathy card." He cleared his throat. "Antonin Dolohov was arrested - the evil slimy _bastard_ that he is, and thrown in Azkaban yesterday morning _much_ to Molly Weasley's delight. Augustus Rookwood's on the list but I've never heard of him... Avery Snr. was put in Azkaban and his son - _his son_ in _our_ year - claimed he was under the Imperius Curse all this time! Can you believe that Moony? That slimy _git_ almost raped Mary by putting _her_ under the Imperius!"

"It's absurd," Remus agreed. "But Lucius Malfoy's playing the same card and hoping to escape his chances of going to Azkaban."

"Should be thrown in Azkaban - the whole _lot_ of them," Sirius spat and continued to read off the list. "Igor Karkaroff - whoever that is - is being tried in several weeks time. Evan Rosier, George Selwyn, Robert Rowle, Matthew Travers - thank _Merlin_ he is for killing Marlene - and apparently William Wilkes has been killed... There are more on the list but I've not heard of them... Anyway, seems like the war is over thanks to Harry, and he's _fine_. All that matters now is you two getting better and that is in approximately thirty-seven days."

"Thank Merlin," Remus checked his watch. "We better get going now otherwise Healer Crawley will kill us."

"We'll be back tomorrow," Sirius promised. "And the day after that."

"_And_ the day after that."

"We'll bring Harry next time, only Molly offered us the night off and we couldn't refuse. So where do we go? We go straight down and see our best friends! See how _dedicated_ we are?"

Remus shoved Sirius playfully. "Come on Padfoot, move it."

* * *

**Thanks for reading if you got this far, and if you liked it, please send me a **REVIEW** and next chapter you'll see all reviews be answered in this little bit at the bottom of my fic.**


	2. Evening Encounters

**A.N: **Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed and alerted and favourited, and you all should have by now received a PM from me confessing my gratitude - and if not, you should receive it within the week (my internet connection fails _a lot_) So please keep reading my story, and favouriting and alerting and most of all **reviewing**. I just love hearing all your positive feedback on my writing! It really makes me happy =)

**Disclaimer: **I own natta.

**Contact: **satansbowtie**dot**tumblr**dot**com - **replace dot with **.

**Previously: **James and Lily have had their house penetrated by Voldemort and were attacked, resulting in them being in a forty day coma and Harry now possessing a lightning shaped scar on his forehead. Sirius is now looking after Harry, with Remus helping out, also. Alice and Frank have been attacked, the Order of the Phoenix is disbanded and James and Lily are now residing in St. Mungo's.

_Enjoy =)_

* * *

It seemed to take an impossible amount of time until 10th December would arrive, and until that date arrived, Remus had to find something to do with his time. A job: to be precise. He passed all his O.W.L and N.E.W.T exams with excellence so he didn't doubt he didn't have the qualifications, it just depended on who would hire a man who would need to take a week off work every month to turn into a killer beast.

He looked at the Daily Prophet each morning for jobs, but he could never seem to find one that would give him the time off he needed and when he did find that odd one, it never paid enough.

That was until Tuesday morning, though.

He sat in his dingy little flat that morning, lukewarm cup of coffee by his side, Daily Prophet open on the blemished kitchen table. He was nursing a sore head and had just taken a potion for it. He read the front page and the articles and the advice columns, did the crosswords and the quiz and until he reached the job section of the paper. He always intently studied that specific page as if he was cramming for one of his exams. And the cramming paid off; near the bottom of the paper was a larger than usual advert.

_Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures_

_New division opening in light of recent events.__  
__Nineteen vacancies._  
_Owl Amos Diggory._

Amos Diggory was two years older than Remus at Hogwarts and was a Hufflepuff. Amos was Head Boy when Remus started school and Remus remembered - for some unknown reason - opening up to him and crying about his Lycanthropy in his first few months at school. Amos had been sympathetic about it and had been a friend for Remus in his First Year. Would he accept him to work for him now?

Remus didn't stop to think; he grabbed a fresh piece of parchment from the table, quill and pot of black ink and composed his letter to Amos:

_Mr. Amos Diggory,__  
__I am writing to enquire upon the job advertisement I saw in the Daily Prophet for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures - the new division, that is. I would very much like to apply for the job if you would let me. I don't know if you remember me from Hogwarts, but if you do, please take my 'condition' into account while choosing my application. Please reply soon._  
_Remus Lupin_.

Remus waited for a reply after he sent his owl off. While he waited, he took a shower, shaved, cleaned his wounds and got dressed. He didn't know what he was planning to do that day and figured he would go and visit James and Lily like he did every day - or perhaps Sirius and Harry; he hadn't seen them since Sunday. Or go into Diagon Alley and purchase some new parchment. But that was a waste of his valuable money, and Merlin knew he didn't have a lot of that which was why he was desperate for the job.

He was preparing to leave the house when the owl arrived, exhausted from the long journey. Remus rushed to open the window for it and grabbed the letter out of its beak. His owl flew into the apartment and nestled into his birdcage and Remus, while opening the letter, locked him in there.

_Remus,__  
__Thank you for applying. Yes of course I remember you - you are just what we're looking for down here. Don't worry; you needn't worry about your 'condition'. Come down to the Ministry of Magic tomorrow at one o'clock for your interview. Bring your resume and a cheerful disposition and I'm sure the job will be yours. Don't worry about the interview; it's compulsory._  
_Amos Diggory._

He felt his heart leap in his throat and his stomach tie into awful knots. He doubted he would hear back from Amos at all - let alone receive a reply almost one hour later asking him to go in for an interview. Remus would have to get his best suit out, he'd have to get his shoes polished - he'd have to get a new tie. Remus began scurrying around looking for his keys and with some galleons in his pocket and optimism in his head, he apparated away to spend some money on _him_ for a change.

...

Remus was terrified he was going to be late, even though he got to the Ministry of Magic half an hour early for his interview. He wore a button up coat, glasses and a black pageboy hat as an attempt to disguise himself from public eye. But there was no need; everyone was too busy rushing around to even _notice_ Remus was there.

He waited at the lift and stepped in with half a dozen other Ministry workers and pressed the number _4_.

It stopped at floor one, floor two and floor three until it eventually reached floor four. Remus stepped out with a middle-aged man who went striding down the corridor, almost bashing into Remus. Remus gave him a dirty look and much slower than the former, followed his direction down a stone wall corridor.

He had twenty minutes until his interview was due to start but he had the horrible feeling he had forgotten something. He checked over every item of clothing he had on and even took off his pageboy had as he did so and clutched his briefcase even tighter in his hand. He didn't even have anything in the briefcase, he just thought it made him look more 'professional'. He brushed a finger over his navy blazer, long-sleeved white, button up shirt, black tie, black trousers and black shoes. He had all his clothes on, but he kept feeling like he had forgotten something...

He was so engaged in his own thoughts that he hadn't realised that he was already at, what looked like, Amos Diggory's reception desk. Remus looked around the room: one reception desk in the middle with three chairs to the left, a water fountain next to it and aquarium on the right and behind, a door that led to - what seemed like - Amos Diggory's office.

"If you're looking for the department Mister, it's that way. This is the boss' office."

Behind the reception desk sat a pretty girl with long, light brown hair. She looked no older than seventeen and that she should be in Hogwarts still, and not a receptionist. She sat lounged in her chair, chewing on a quill, legs crossed over each other, turning back and forth on her big, black, leather chair. Remus cleared his throat and ventured over to the girl.

"No, I'm uh - here for the interview."

She nodded her head at one of the smaller, brown, leather chairs. "Wait over there; the boss will be out in a minute."

"Thank you."

Remus sat down, placing the briefcase in between his legs. He looked around the office and then at his watch. Fifteen minutes.

He was suddenly aware that he was being watched, by the pretty receptionist, no less. He pursed his lips and anxiously fiddled with his tie, loosening it under the pressure. She continued watching him, tapping her brightly coloured fingernails on the oak desk.

"Where do I know you from?" She asked.

"Me?" Remus asked, looking around.

"No I was talking to the fish. Yes you! Where do I know you from?"

The young man cleared his throat once more. "I'm - I'm Remus Lupin."

She almost dropped the quill in surprise. She sat upright to attention and leaned forward on her elbows, now staring at him in fascination. "You're the Potters' mate!"

"That's me," he admitted.

"I was in two years below you lot at school then. I remember Lily: Head Girl when I started as Prefect."

"What house were you in?"

"Ravenclaw," she replied. "We were paired up for patrols once, you and me!"

"Really? Oh, what's your name?"

"Lydia Greengrass."

"OH!" Remus gasped. "I remember you - you were Crouch's girl." She blushed at the memory. "Oh, I'm sorry... I should have thought."

_Thought what Remus? Thought not to mention her ex-boyfriend just being locked in Azkaban?_But she waved it off. "He deserves it after what he did to Frank and Alice; Alice always seemed so... so _kind_..."

"She was," Remus said. "They all were. All who died."

"I remember James," she said with a grin.

"Oh I'm sure you would."

They both shared a laugh. "And Sirius, too."

"No he's not someone you'll forget in a hurry."

Lydia threw back her bead. "No, sadly I never did fall under his radar."

"Sadly? You're lucky to not have done."

"How so?"

"You must have had _friends_ who dated him?" Lydia nodded. "Well then you remember what he was like: sneaking into girls' dorms, cheating on girls, never being able to hold a_relationship_ with a girl..."

"I thought he and Marlene suited each other."

"So did he," Remus admitted. "He was gutted when she died."

"I'm sure."

Remus stared at her and she stared back. How was he managing to open up to him, but found it difficult to say this sort of stuff to his friends? Lydia smiled back at him and began shuffling through her papers and he stared at her admirably as she hummed the tune to a song Remus didn't know. She walked around the office with an elegant air in her stride. She was tall and slender and wore tight clothes which complimented her figure. Remus smiled to himself; did he _really_ have a crush on a girl he'd had only one conversation with? Well, she_was_ pretty mesmerizing. His last girlfriend was Felicity Dunphy and that had ended in disaster. But Remus guessed there was something... _different_ about Lydia Greengrass that he just had to find out.

"So, what position are you going for?"

Remus was snapped out of his thoughts by Lydia's voice awakening him. He gave a nervous chuckle and said: "Whichever one I get; I don't mind."

"Wow, you must _really_ want to work with creatures then."

"I suppose so; I've always been fascinated by them."

"Really? Me too."

"Probably not as much as me though; I'm _practically _a beast myself." She laughed at what she thought was a joke. "So what do you like? Let me guess: _Mermaids_?"

"_Merlin_ no - Centaurs."

"Really?" Remus asked. "Do you like halfs?"

She shrugged and opened the filing cabinet behind her desk and began flicking through various files. "I don't know; I've never really met one - have _you_ met a centaur?"

"Oh yeah, _and_ a werewolf."

Her eyes turned into the size of saucers and slowly (and loudly) closed the drawer. "_Really_? I've always wanted to meet one."

"Perhaps you can one day."

"Depends on the date."

Remus gave a nervous laugh and ran a hand through his blonde hair. "Yes. Yes I suppose it does."

Just as his nervous laughter died down the same man who barged past Remus in the lift barged past him in the waiting area, arms swinging roughly by his side muttering under his breath. Following him out of the office was Amos Diggory, wearing a pinstripe suit with robes. Amos gave a loud sigh and took from Lydia the Receptionist a cup of hot coffee and sipped it.

"Thank you Greengrass," he said, "come through Remus; I'll be with you in a moment."

Amos walked back into his office and Remus stood up, straightening himself up in an attempt to look smarter. He pushed back his hair and fiddled with the cufflinks on his blazer. He picked up his briefcase and followed Amos into his office.

"Good luck," Lydia called after him.

He'd need it.

...

Harry had started crying so Sirius thought it would be a good idea to take him to The Leaky Cauldron. Of course, like expected, they were flocked by Witches and Wizards and Warlocks alike, trying to get a look or picture of the Boy-Who-Lived (what they were now calling Harry). Sirius kept Harry close to him in a booth at the back so at least no _new_customers would see them so easily unless they were informed by others that they were there. Eventually, Harry and Sirius were left alone - Sirius suspected Tom the Landlord had something to do with it, and he could enjoy his pint of Phoenix and lunch in peace and quiet.

Getting Harry out of the flat seemed to do him some good because he had settled down and was chewing on Sirius' motorbike keys. Sirius hadn't been able to use his motorbike since the attack and longed for when he could use it again. He missed the wind blowing through his hair, the beautiful sights he could see when soaring over England and mostly, drawing attention to himself by the ladies for having a motorbike and making him look 'cool'.

But he loved spending time with Harry even more. Having Harry in his life opened his eyes to new experiences - new _ideas_. He regretted ever breaking up with a girl because they wanted marriage or children -that was why poor Marlene dumped him so frequently because he was so adamant on the subject. _What if I had just said yes_? He wondered, _just to keep her happy? Would she still be alive? Would we have children by now_? Twenty-one-years-old and dead. That was Marlene McKinnon's tragic life story. She longed for children _so_ badly and now she'd never get the opportunity...

The mere thought made Sirius bitter and his blood start boiling in his body. Too young to have died. Too young to not have the children she longed for. But Sirius knew, deep down, that Marlene didn't keep frequently dumping him because he didn't want children and she didn't. There was a much stronger reason than that, and he couldn't bring himself to say it.

Sirius was just finishing his pint and playing with Harry when the familiar face of his best friend came striding through the Leaky Cauldron, not casting a glance at Sirius. Sirius lowered his empty pint glass and called to his friend which caused him to stop, take a few glances around the pub until he spotted Sirius and join him at the table.

"You looked like you were in a hurry," Sirius observed. "Where were you off to?"

"Gringotts," Remus answered. "Sirius, I have some good news to tell you."

"Go on then."

Remus ordered a drink first then went on to tell Sirius his good news. "Well, two days ago I was reading the Daily Prophet looking for jobs and I came across one for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, run by Amos Diggory - do you remember him?" Sirius nodded. "Okay, well I got a reply from him telling me to go for an interview yesterday at noon and we talked over some things, and now you're looking at the Head of the new sub-division for Animal Rights."

"Whoa - that's _fantastic_! What do you do?" Sirius gushed.

"Werewolves, Centaurs and creatures like that have a bad reputation for being blood-lusting, don't they? So it's _my_ job to raise awareness that not all creatures are like that and Amos is willing to give me a week off work _every_ month, my excuse being that I have overseas investigation on werewolves to do - isn't that _fantastic_?"

"Yeah," Sirius replied honestly. "That's really great news!"

"I start next Monday - I'm the _Head_ of this division, I'll be the _leader_ and the manager of this! I'll be going to meetings, people will make coffee for me - I'll even have my own _office_with a view of London and everything... Sirius this is just great!"

"It is," Sirius laughed. "Let me by you the drink."

"No, no, no; I have a job now; I can pay for my own."

"How much are they paying you?"

"Three galleons an hour." Sirius' eyes opened widely. "Yeah, I know. I work nine 'til five and that's twenty-four galleons a day! That's more than I even have in my vault at the moment! And do you know what makes this even better? Is that I get to work on something I actually _care_ about; I'll be making life better for myself _and_ for others like me."

"That's really great Moony, honest it is. James and Lily will be so pleased when they hear the news."

"I know!" Remus' drink arrived and he paid the waitress who stuffed the money in her hand and walked off gruffly. "You should really think about getting a job too, Sirius."

"I don't need a job; I have plenty of money inherited."

"Yeah, but that's not going to last forever."

"Moony... You've seen my vault, even if I spend one hundred galleons a _day_ there would still be enough - and extra - for my grandchildren," Remus cast him a sceptical look. "If I even have Grandchildren, that is," he added quickly.

Remus grinned and eyed Harry. "You want children, don't you Padfoot?"

"What? Don't be ridiculous-"

"-Harry's made you broody! You want to be a Father!"

"Keep your _voice down Moony_," Sirius hissed. "I have a reputation to keep up and so what if I want children now? There's not a crime against it, is there?"

"No," he grinned. "No not at all."

Sirius glared at him. "Shut up and drink your drink."

...

Remus was incredibly nervous for his first day at work. He wore his best dress robes and even got a hair cut for the event. His new job had even made the papers (an article on page four) and he felt under pressure. Sirius brought him a Muggle toy for his office with five swinging silver balls on a pole. Remus had that in his briefcase as well as a picture of him and his parents and a picture of he, Sirius, James and Lily all together, smiling and waving a few weeks after Harry had been born.

He exited the lift onto his floor, and while the other people that got out went either to the right or the left, Remus walked straight on, and felt an air of confidence and importance as he did so. He reached the waiting area where the chairs were on the left and big fish tank on the right and reception desk in the centre. Behind the desk, instead of one door leading to an office like there had been on Tuesday, there were too, and on the door on the right it read: _Remus Lupin_.

"Ah! Remus!" Amos Diggory was behind him, pacing up to him extending his arm which Remus took and shook. "Big day today then, eh? Nervous?"

"Yes, sir."

"Call me Amos," Amos demanded. "I'll give you some time to settle into your new office and then we'll collect the rest of the team for a brief welcoming meeting down the corridor. Greengrass, make this man a coffee."

"Roger that Mr. Diggory."

Greengrass or _Lydia_ as Remus knew her, spun around on her chair, poured coffee out of the _teapot_ and handed a mug to Remus. "You can bring your own mugs, just use this one for today."

"He's not a fool, Greengrass," Amos scolded unfairly. "Now, I've got a lot of filing I need you to do for me about the new staff members. You'll be working for Mr. Lupin as well and I want you to treat him with the same respect you treat me with."

"Yes sir."

She turned her back on the two men. "Okay, it's nine o'clock now, so meet me in the boardroom at ten. That should give you more than enough time to set up your desk and find your bearings around the office. That okay, Remus?"

"Yes Si - _Amos_."

"Good," Amos went in to shake Remus' hand again. "It's good to have you on the team."

"Thanks again for the job Amos, I promise I won't let you down."

"Of course you won't Remus."

Amos left Remus to go into his office. He was given the key from Lydia and unlocked it, revealing a spacious room with a desk by the window with the spectacular promised view of London. He set the coffee and briefcase on the desk and looked around, opening various cupboards and draws, looking to make the place a bit more like home.

He put the two pictures on the desk and was finished unpacking. Then he sat at the desk and looked at the stationary he was given: five quills with three different colour pots of ink and a drawer filled with parchment for writing and folders for storing. He closed the drawer and sat back in his chair, admiring his room. This would do quite nicely.

He left his office and closed the door behind him, putting his keys in his pocket. He gave the empty cup to Lydia who thanked him and Remus went on a private tour of the fourth floor.

On the left corridor it was nothing more than three loud, shared offices with twenty people in each room, one to a desk, busy at work. Remus looked around for a while and moved onto the right hand side of the corridor where there were rooms and rooms of more separate offices on one side of the corridor and boardrooms on the other. Amos was setting up for a meeting in Conference Room C. Remus let him get on with it and returned to his office.

"How are you liking it so far?" Lydia asked when he returned.

"It's great," Remus replied. "I really like it here."

"That's good," she said and got back to work.

...

Remus loved his job, and he must be the only person ever to be able to say that.

He loved working on projects and giving speeches and going to campaigns and protests. He got to travel all around England and even got to go to France one day. But especially, he liked the people he worked with. Amos became a fast friend and Remus got to personally know a lot more people that he was working with, and he especially liked the receptionist Lydia and it seemed, to Remus, that she liked him as well.

Remus must be crazy, but he was sure Lydia felt the same way as he did. She'd make him a cup of coffee every morning and give it to him when he arrived at work with a chocolate biscuit on the side. Then she'd arrive with another cup of coffee for him half an hour later with another biscuit and if he ever needed help with anything she'd be the first person he would go to and she'd stop what she was doing to assist him. She was a very beautiful girl - that was obvious to anyone, and that meant she was out of Remus' league. But it didn't stop him wishing.

"Good morning Mr. Lupin," she'd say every morning without fail.

"Good morning Lydia," Remus would reply. "How are you today?"

"I'm very well thank you Mr. Lupin - how are you?"

"Pleased to be here. Have you got anything for me?"

And then she'd hand him whatever he needed and bring the coffee in after him and they'd both get on with their work. One day though, it was different: he didn't get a 'good morning' from Lydia, but he gave her one anyway.

"Good morning Lydia," he said, "is everything alright?"

She looked up at him and frowned. "No, no not really."

"Tell me what's wrong."

"I don't want to bother you," she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, "you've got a lot of work to do. I don't want to burden you." But never the less, Remus pulled up a chair from the waiting area and sat opposite Lydia at her desk. She smiled and pulled her chair up to him. "My brother's having another baby."

"Well that's a good thing, isn't it?"

"My _younger_ brother," she elaborated. "Now that Isiah - my brother, that is - is married, settled with children and has a proper job, they expect _me_ to do the same thing and won't stop _nagging_ me _everyday _until I arrive home and announce that I'm engaged and pregnant! I'm just so _tired_ with it all."

"Oh," was all Remus could say.

"Now you regret me telling you, don't you Sir?"

"Of course not," Remus replied. "Everyone has their problems. Just explain to your parents that you're different from your brother and not ready to have children. You're what, twenty now?"

"Nineteen," she corrected.

"You still have twenty years or so to have children and just tell them that. It's your life and you can do what you want with it now that you're an adult. You have a job that you enjoy - do you like it here?" She nodded. "And it's a good job to have too. And if you want my opinion: nineteen is _much_ too early to have children anyway."

She smiled. "Are you married, Sir?"

Remus laughed. "No, not yet."

"Do you _want_ to marry?"

Remus rose from his chair. "Yes, yes I suppose so. But I, like you, have a long time to go until I'm past my expiration date. There's still time."

"Well do you want to get lunch sometime?"

Remus had never been asked out by a girl before; it was normally him asking them out. He had never expected Lydia to _actually_ feel the same way about him that he did. Though his heart was beating rapidly and he was just _aching_ to say yes, he hesitated for a moment before replying: "Sure, where do you want to go?"

"There's a small, Muggle bistro I know just round the corner from here. We could go tomorrow if you'd like. Or we could go for dinner? Dinner sounds better. When do you want to go?"

Remus smiled at her enthusiasm. "Tomorrow at seven o'clock?"

"Oh yes!" She exclaimed with a big smile. "Yes I'll like that very much. This is my address." And she scribbled it down on the back of a business card. "You can come round early for a drink if you like."

"I'll be there for seven; there are things I have to take care of before then."

Remus wasn't sure if his act of nonchalance was working, but he hoped by turning down her early reply would work. "Yes, yes that's fine then. Saves me buying some wine. So... seven then?"

"Seven is great."

...

"So what are you doing tomorrow night Moony? I was thinking about having a guys' night in: play some cards, drink some beer, go to strip clubs - the usual stuff we used to do when James was still about."

Remus and Sirius were in Remus' small flat in London with Harry. Remus had just finished talking about his first week at work when Sirius suggested they go out Friday night to relax Remus from a hard week at work. Remus had to somehow decline Sirius' offer without telling him he was going out on a date.

"I'm busy tomorrow; I have a meeting at seven."

"What about Saturday then?"

"Saturday sounds good."

...

Because Remus couldn't be with Sirius on Friday night, Sirius made his own plans.

He planned to have a few drinks by himself and go to a Muggle club in London for the first time since the attack. Molly and Arthur Weasley had agreed to look after Harry so that Sirius could have a well deserved night off baby-sitting. Sirius lied and said he was going to be spending the evening shopping for Harry and left out the part that he was hoping to score with some fit Muggle bird. Sirius was looking forward to that part. Perhaps he could throw in the information about Harry to play the sympathy card, but whatever the outcome, Sirius was ready to have fun.

...

Remus was nervous for his date with Lydia. He wore his best suit and tie and did his best attempt to cover up the scars on his face with the potion he was meant to be taking but stopped when he was younger. Then he remembered: it didn't work and the taste was rancid.

Quarter to seven came and Remus was pacing up and down his flat, trying to kill time. He didn't want to be too late and he didn't want to be too early. This was his first date in a long time and he didn't want to mess it up; he really liked Lydia.

Then he checked his watch and the big hand turned to seven. That was Remus' cue to apparate to Lydia's.

...

Sirius walked through the streets of London in attempt to find a good bar. In the end he found one near the Leaky Cauldron that he thought would be good. He waited in line for a few minutes until he was admitted entry and was pleased that there was a multitudinous amount of girls dancing together. Sirius grinned and walked to the bar where he spotted, all alone, a _very_ attractive young lady sitting at the bar on the other side. Jackpot.

...

Remus knocked on Lydia's door and immediately she answered and instantly he noticed how _beautiful_ she looked.

The dress that she wore was well fitted and her hair hung loose in brown ringlets. Remus was almost speechless; she looked so different than what she did at the office and Remus' lack of words pleased her, and she smiled, standing to her side.

"I hope there's not a policy at work on taking young secretary's out on dates, Mr. Lupin," she scolded playfully. "Because I won't tell if you don't."

"No - no there's uh - not."It took Remus a moment to realize that he should be speaking to Lydia's face and not her breasts. He hoped she wouldn't notice.

"I can change into something different if it makes you uncomfortable," she noticed.

"No," he replied a little too quickly. "No, no you look _beautiful_."

"Thank you," she smiled. "You don't look too bad yourself."

"Shall we go then?" He suggested. "Where's the restaurant."

"Take my hand," she commanded. "And I'll show you."

...

At the end of the bar the girl sat undisturbed until Sirius made his way over there. She had already predicted what was going to happen but allowed Sirius to make a move.

"Hey girl, your breasts must be headlights 'cause I can't seem to stop staring."

She looked at him in pure disgust. "Pig."

She got up ready to leave, but Sirius laughed and took hold of her hand. "I'm only kidding – bit of a shit chat up line really, just thought I'd test it out on a _beautiful_ woman, such as yourself. Let me buy you a drink. Please?"

"Alright then," she said reluctantly, climbing onto the stool. "I'll have the same again, please," she said to the bar man.

"I hope you're not _too_ expensive," Sirius joked.

"Aw honey, there's not enough money in the _world_ to buy me."

...

The young couple were settled at a table at the restaurant and their food order was taken: Lydia ordered the seafood linguini and Remus ordered a medium-rare steak. It was a fancy restaurant and no doubt cost a lot of money. This time last month there would have been no possible way Remus could have afforded a meal like this, but now with his good job he_could_ afford it easily.

"I'm a vegetarian," Lydia informed once the waiter left. "I've never had steak."

"It's good," Remus replied. "If I knew you were a vegetarian I would have ordered fish or something else."

"Nonsense, I don't want you not eating meat in front of me. You could eat as much as you want and I wouldn't care. What's your favourite?"

"All of it," Remus laughed. "I eat meat almost every day - how could you go without it?"

"My Mum's intolerant to it so she never cooks it. I don't really know what I'm missing."

"You can try some of my steak if you'd like to."

She smiled. "I'd like that very much, thank you Remus."

...

She let out a bark of laughter. "So she just _fell in_ the swamp?"

"Well, she didn't exactly fall in; I sort of pushed her!"

The two of them roared with laughter and Sirius ordered another round of drinks. When the pair stopped laughing the girl watched him. "So come on, tell me what your name is."

"Didn't I tell you earlier?" The lady shook her head. "How rude of me! I'm Sirius, Sirius Black."

And her face lit up. "I _knew_ there was something about you that was different to everyone else in here! I should have realised it when you mixed up a sickle with a fifty pence piece coin."

"Are you a Witch?" Sirius asked in an undertone and she nodded. "Really? Did we go to school together? What year did you leave?"

"Nineteen-seventy-two."

Sirius almost coughed out his drink. "You - what house were you in?"

"Slytherin." Not only was this girl a Slytherin, but she was _five_ years older than him. She was twenty-six and he was only twenty-one. "Is that a problem?"

"No, no," he said, wiping his mouth. "No, it's just... you must have gone to school with my cousin Narcissa then."

"Narcissa Black?" She asked. "I lost contact with her after we left Hogwarts. What year did you leave then?"

"Nineteen-seventy-eight."

She laughed again. "I think my age must have shocked you then."

"I didn't think you were that old!"

"I'm not old!" She cried. "But I suppose that is a _compliment_, isn't it? You were in Slytherin too, right?"

"Gryffindor," he corrected.

"Blimey," she sighed. "It's a small world."

"You still haven't told me your name," Sirius informed.

"You wouldn't have heard of us."

"Try me."

She cleared her throat. "Helena Rosier." But Sirius _had_ heard of her. "Yes, to answer your question, I was just being sarcastic and yes, a group of Aurors _have_ just killed my brother for being a Death Eater. You must have gone to school with him, his name was-"

"-Evan."

"Evan," Helena confirmed. "He was always my _least_ favourite sibling, but I was still devastated when he was killed, and I warned him - I _warned_ him it would happen if he got with the Death Eaters but he wouldn't listen to me. He kept going on and on about how he was making the world a better place for people like us and I remember he left our house one day and just... _poof_. He disappeared and never came back. I went to the Auror office the next morning to find out what had happened and it was only three days later I was told that they killed him. Do you want to know how long ago my brother was killed, Sirius? Two weeks ago. Two weeks ago and it was his funeral today and here I am, in a Muggle nightclub getting drunk with a handsome stranger!" She was hysterical, but had a good reason to be.

"I lost the love of my life one month ago," Sirius said in an undertone. "And it was my fault."

...

"Tell me more about yourself," Remus demanded.

"Okay, what do you want to know?"

Remus pondered while he cut up some of his steak. Lydia had just tried some but almost spat it out in disgust. "Tell me about you at Hogwarts."

"That was a long time ago... Let's see... The hat was stumped between Ravenclaw and Slytherin but I chose the former. My Dad was really upset when I wasn't in Slytherin, but that didn't last long because Isiah was sorted there a year later. After that I just sort of faded away in my Dad's eyes. Isiah's always been the golden boy and I was always desperate for attention. I was on my second warning at Hogwarts by fifth year and Professor Flitwick thought it would be a good idea to make me Prefect... But then I was stripped of that status when I got caught poisoning my brother's dinner..." Remus stopped eating, but Lydia laughed. "Don't worry; I haven't done it to yours."

Remus laughed and continued his dinner. "Why did you poison his food?"

"Because I hate him."

"I don't have any siblings," Remus said.

"You're lucky."

"I always wanted a little sister."

"I have an older sister and a sister-in-law. You're better without."

"That's what all my friends say," Remus smiled. "So how many do you have?"

"Only a sister and brother and his wife."

"What's their child called?"

"Daphne."

"They must have had her young."

"Persephone gave birth two months after she finished Hogwarts."

"She must be the same age as Harry Potter then."

"I think she might be," Lydia concurred. "I could never give my child such an _awful_ name like Daphne."

"Mine did."

"Remus is a good name," Lydia said, "it's unique. I've never met a Remus before."

"I had an Aunt called Lydia," he informed. "But she died in childbirth."

Lydia gave him a sympathetic smile. "Let's change this conversation now. So how are you finding working with Mr. Diggory?"

...

Helena and Sirius left the club and moved to the Leaky Cauldron where they both sat talking over an expensive bottle of Goblin Gin until they finished the bottle and had to go home.

"I'll walk you home," Sirius suggested.

"It's fine," Helena replied.

"I insist."

She sighed. "Fine, but it's a twenty minute walk away."

"It's a good thing I like walking."

...

Remus paid for dinner and helped Lydia put on her jacket and apparated to the corner of her street. She was secretly embarrassed to have him walk her home because she still lived with her parents, but he insisted that he would do. They walked and talked for ten minutes until they reached her house on the end of the cul-de-sac.

"Thank you for walking me home," she said once they reached her door. "I had a great time."

"So did I," Remus agreed.

...

"Thanks for buying the drinks."

"Don't mention it."

...

"Can we do it again sometime?" Lydia inquired.

"I'd love that."

...

"Want to go out again?" Helena asked.

"Sure if you want."

...

"What about tomorrow night?"

"I can't tomorrow; I promised I'll go out with a friend," Remus apologised. "I'd rather spend time with you again, though."

...

"Tomorrow?"

"Sure," said Sirius.

...

"That's sweet," Lydia said.

She lingered at the doorway and an awkward moment passed between them. Remus wasn't sure if he should kiss her or just let her go inside. He bowed his head, deciding not to kiss her this time. "What about next Friday then? Or lunch one day next week?"

"I'd like that," she smiled.

It was Lydia who made the first move and stepped down and kissed Remus on the cheek.

...

"I'll see you then," Helena said.

She stopped at the doorway and Sirius looked up at her. He didn't know whether to kiss her or not but it was Helena who made the final choice. She grabbed Sirius by the collar of his shirt and kissed him fiercely. He pushed her up against her door and his mouth explored hers, travelling down to her neck and collarbone as she fumbled with the door and her keys to unlock the door and the amorous couple fell into the house.

...

"Good night, Remus," Lydia whispered softly in his ear.

She pulled back and brought her keys out of her bag and unlocked the door and stepped through, watching Remus through the crack as she closed it behind him.

Remus wished the door would never close.

* * *

_**Okay random three of you lovely people who reviewed, here is a shout out (and brief reply) to your review!**_

**SakTheSlytherin: **Thanks for the review and here is the chapter you could hardly wait for!  
**GirlWhoIsANerd: **Whoa do you really think so? It's so hard writing canon characters and I don't think I've done them justice, though I'm pleased you think I have! Wow!  
**jilyshipper16: **Like this little story line? _Trust_ me there are more intense story lines to come *spoilers*

_**Reviews make the earth orbit the moon.**_


	3. The Potter's Revival

**A.N**. Whoa guys, I never honestly believed, in my wildest dreams that my story would get such good recognition from you all like this. I have an infinite amount of gratitude to you all like... _wow_ thank you so much to everyone who has favourited, alerted, followed me on tumblr (like my new url?) and** reviewed. **I just love reviews so much because I get to hear all your feedback and talk to you all - I've really made a good friend over this now, thanks! Please keep them coming and expect replies to your reviews tomorrow!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing in this sadly, apart from Lydia and even her surname is borrowed :(

**Previously: **Instead of dying, Lily and James were put in a comatose state for forty dates, leaving Harry in the capable hands of Sirius and Remus. Remus has been accepted for a new job at the _Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures _for the rights of werewolves like him, and other magical creatures with a heap of prejudice against them. At his job he met a beautiful nineteen-year-old girl called Lydia Greengrass who he was instantly attracted to and asked out on a date. While on that date, Sirius met a Witch named Helena, who he had sex with.

**Contact: **satansbowtie**dot**tumblr**dot**com - **replace dot with **.

_Enjoy =)_

* * *

Helena Rosier was no different than any other girl Sirius had slept with from a bar. The next night he slept with a girl named Clea Tompkins and three hours later, Jamie-Lee Hartley. It was Sirius' life, and no amount of nagging from Remus or _anyone_ would change his ways. There was nothing _wrong_ with sleeping with an incessant number of women; he could see himself doing it until he was at _least_ thirty-five. There was no point in stopping him.

Remus went on three lunch dates with Lydia over the next week and one dinner date on Saturday night and he was having the best week he could ever imagined he could have, given the circumstances. But there was just one problem: he had not plucked up enough nerve to kiss her. No one apart from themselves knew about their relationship; they couldn't openly admit it to anyone in the office because Remus was one hundred percent sure that Amos wouldn't like it and consequently fire Lydia. Remus couldn't tell Sirius, either, because Sirius was, well, Sirius. Remus loved Sirius like a brother, and he knew it was unfair how he was treating him... but Sirius wouldn't be able to understand how Remus could do something as nonchalant as dating while their best friends were in comas.

So Remus and Lydia were sat in Remus' office one lunchtime. Lydia sat across from him at the desk, eating noodles from a Tupperware box as Remus skimmed through paperwork. It was one of the rare lunches that Remus had to work through, but that wouldn't stop the secret couple spending as much time as they could together.

"My parents have invited you for dinner next Sunday," Lydia announced on that day. "If you want to come."

Remus risked a glance up from his work. "I'd like that. What time?"

"Mum normally serves dinner at three o'clock so get there for two. You don't _have_ to come if you don't want to..."

"It'll be fine Lydia, I want to come."

She smiled, twisting her hair with her finger like she had done with her noodles. "When can I meet your parents?"

"Good luck with that," Remus said dismissively.

"Why?" She asked, puzzled.

"Because they're dead." An awkward silence passed but Remus paid no heed, and just continued his work like he had done before his announcement. Lydia could not think of anything to say, and sensing that, Remus looked up and smiled at her. "Don't worry; I get that reaction a lot. It's fine anyway; my Mum died eight months ago and my dad four years."

"I'm really sorry," Lydia said in a quiet voice.

Remus shrugged and reached over the desk to squeeze Lydia's hand. "It's alright; I'm over it now."

"I don't know how you could be."

"I'm used to death now; nearly all of my friends from Hogwarts have. Only three of us have escaped the war unscathed: Mary – I think, Sirius and I."

"What happened to the others?"

"Dead mostly. It's a long story," Remus stated.

Lydia looked at the clock that hung on Remus' wall. "We have forty minutes."

So Remus informed Lydia on his tragic background starting from when the war started, who died and what else had happened. She was silent all throughout, listening intently to every word he said. She knew a lot about the war by what she added, but _clearly_ did not know the dangers and the tragedy the war had produced for so many.

At the end of the story Lydia walked round his desk, sat on Remus' lap without hesitation and put her arms around him, burying her head into his shoulders. He responded by putting his arms around her waist, moving his hands up and down her back. Then when she pulled her head back, the couple made eye contact and Remus went into kiss her.

It was a light kiss that lasted no more than ten seconds, but even then Remus felt the hairs on the back of his neck stick up and his heart race around his body. When she pulled back she smiled at him and placed her head back on her shoulder. Remus was scared she could hear the thoughts racing through his mind or his heart beating in his chest. He tried to remain calm and closed his eyes, wishing that there was no work to get back to, and it was just he and Lydia together forever in that loving, tender, warm embrace.

...

There were only three weeks left until Lily and James were out of their coma, and the weeks had dragged. Sirius missed his best friend and he missed not having to go out with a screaming one-year-old in a pushchair all the time. Yes, he loved Harry, but he couldn't wait until his parents could be reunited with him again. They'd had fun together, but Harry wasn't Sirius' kid and he belonged with James, not Sirius, and he was grateful he made that realisation early on.

One day, Remus took Harry down to the local park in his pushchair. Harry was warmly dressed in a jumper and a coat, hat, scarf and gloves but he was still shivering in the pram. It was only November and even Remus felt the cold. His hat was pulled down to his eyes and coat buttoned up to his chin, but the bitter weather seemed to get in all the nooks and crannies.

Remus didn't want to stay long in the park, but he thought the fresh air might do Harry good, but when they reached the park Harry was fast asleep, but once they were at the playground he was wide awake again.

"Swing!" Harry demanded.

So Remus complied, took Harry out of the pushchair and followed him to the swings. The werewolf placed Harry in one of them and Harry gripped the bar as Remus slowly pushed him. He wouldn't let Harry go _too_ high, despite his constant pleas of "HIGHER!"

"No," Remus said. "You'll fall out and hurt yourself."

"Higher!" Harry cheered.

Remus pushed him higher, though it wasn't much of a difference, Harry seemed to notice; he laughed and clapped his hands playfully.

"We'll have to stop now Harry."

"No!"

"Uncle Remus is tired."

"No!"

"How are you _not_ tired?"

"No!"

Harry couldn't understand what Remus was saying and Remus took Harry out of the swing. Harry ran away from Remus and to the slide where he attempted to clamber onto it. Remus let him climb and slide a small way down the slide, until Remus climbed the ladder, sat on the top of the slide, put Remus in his lap and the twenty-one-year-old man and fifteen month old baby went shooting down the slide and, once at the bottom, Harry gurgled with delight, clapped his hands and demanded more.

"Later," Remus promised. "We'll feed the ducks now."

"Ducks!"

Instead of running to the lake, Harry ran to his pushchair and sat inside. Remus joined Harry at the pushchair and wheeling him away from the park and to the lake, where he released Harry, put him on his reigns and the pair fed the ducks.

"This is fun, isn't it Harry?"

"More bread!"

So Remus tore off another piece of bread to give to Harry to throw to the mixture of geese, ducks, swans and seagulls pouring around for some food. When they went to feed the ducks, Remus found it was never only ducks they fed, but an assortment of different birds which inhabited the lake.

When the bread was gone Remus returned Harry to the park. Remus sat on the bench and allowed Harry to go a little distance away and play on the small kids' apparatus. Remus watched him with admiration, Harry occasionally bragging how high he was (when he was no more than two metres off the ground) or how strong he was, when someone approached Remus from behind.

"Never thought I'd see the Boy-Who-Lived playing in a tunnel - a bit mundane from what he's usually used to, isn't it?"

Remus spun around and a tall man with dark hair stood behind him. "Are you - are you _following_ us?"

"No," the man said and moved around to sit next to Remus on the bench. "I thought it was Harry Potter while I was over by the lake - and who can blame me for wanting to meet him?"

Remus was sceptical. "Everybody does."

"Exactly!" The man said. "Name's Isadore."

"Remus."

"Horrible weather, isn't it?"

"Very," Remus agreed. "Who are you with?"

"My daughter," Isadore informed. "She's over on the swings."

"How old is she?"

"Five - they grow up so fast, don't they?"

"Harry's only one."

"But it must seem only yesterday he was born, mustn't it?"

"I guess," Remus replied. "Well, we better get going now."

He rose, so did Isadore. "It was nice meeting you, Remus."

"Yeah... you too. Come on Harry - we're going home."

Surprisingly, Harry obliged and stumbled over to Remus who picked him up and stuffed him in the pushchair. As he was leaving, a small girl with thick locks of black hair came running over to Isadore on the bench, tugging at his hand.

"Papa, Papa, Papa! You have to come and see this!" She cried. "It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen! The daisies are dancing! The daisies are dancing in the wind and the birds are singing along. Papa, you have to come and see this!"

Isadore turned to Remus in explanation. "Sybbie's just started using her first bits of magic. Come on then darling: lead the way."

And the small girl with bouncing black locks of hair ran with her Father to the dancing daisies and singing magpies. Remus watched them go, pushing Harry in his pram out the park.

...

Remus went back to Sirius' to drop of Harry. It was nice of Sirius to let Remus look after him, but when his knock on the door was answered by a young, half-naked blonde girl, eyeing him sceptically wearing one of Sirius' t-shirts, Remus understood why Sirius had given Harry up without much persuasion required.

"Is Sirius in?" Remus asked dryly.

Then she eyed Harry. "Is that _his_ baby?"

"Yes," Remus said sweetly, "it's _our_ baby."

She looked horrified. "He's _gay_?"

"Gayer than cum on a moustache - is he in?"

"Yes," she said and wrapped the t-shirt round her body. "And I'm out."

She dashed back into the flat and came out moments later, hastily pulling on her skirt. Remus bid her farewell and pushed Harry and himself into the flat, quietly closing the door behind him and perching on Sirius' sofa. Harry was fast asleep.

"_Janine_... Where are you hiding?" Came Sirius' lofty voice from the bedroom.

"She's gone, Sirius," Remus called. "Took one look at Harry and assumed the worst."

"You have impeccable timing, you know that Moony?" Sirius called. "I'll be out in a minute... Just let me get dressed." And a minute later he came out. He collapsed onto the sofa with a heavy sigh. "I'm _exhausted_."

"I lack sympathy," Remus noted. "Your Godchild and I had fun in the freezing cold while you were having sex with a girl you probably don't even know the name of."

"Her name's _Janet_."

"You called her Janine a moment ago."

Sirius paused. "Do you want a drink?"

"Coffee will be fine," Remus laughed. "How'd you meet her?"

"Tesco," Sirius answered, leaving the sofa to go into the kitchen. "Two sugars?"

"Yep," Remus returned. "What happened to Emily? I thought you liked her."

Sirius returned with two magically made coffees. "I did... Until I slept with her sister."

"_Padfoot_-"

"-Don't moan at me Moony; I'm not doing anything wrong; they're all of age and giving me consent," he passed the coffee to Remus and cheekily added, "consent's not the _only_ thing they're giving me."

"Too much information, Padfoot," Remus cringed. "Cheers."

"Cheers." Both men drank their coffee. Sirius put his down with a gasp of breath. "You should follow my lead; having sex is a _great_ way of clearing your head and meeting new people."

"No; I believe you should only have sex if you love the person and or know their name."

"So when was the last time _you_ got laid?"

Remus couldn't remember. It must have been a long time ago when he was still dating his ex in Hogwarts. He must have been eighteen the first and last time they did it and after their catastrophic break up, he hadn't conjured up the strength to ask out any girl ever since. So now he was alone with Lydia, who he kissed every day but never anymore than that.

"Proves my point," Sirius grinned. "Moony... You _would_ tell me if you were seeing another girl, wouldn't you?"

Remus delayed the question by taking another sip of coffee. "Of course."

"So will you tell me who that bonnie bird was I saw you snogging in the corridor last night?" Remus froze, his cup inches away from his mouth. "She's very pretty."

He lowered it and cleared his throat. "Yes - yes she is."

"So who is she?"

"My secretary," Remus replied.

"How cliché."

"She's very nice."

"Would I know her?"

Remus shook his head. "You dated her friend when we were in seventh year for a few weeks: Leah Hiddleston."

"Is she the friend I cheated on Leah with?"

"No Padfoot."

"Oh," he said, "what's her name? How old is she? What's she like?"

"She's Lydia and she's nineteen and she's _very_ nice."

"She looks it," Sirius agreed. "How long have you been seeing her for?" When Remus didn't automatically answer, Sirius added: "I won't mind if you've been seeing her for a while and not told me. Honest to Merlin I won't."

"Then you're in luck because we've been together no more than three weeks."

"Who else knows about you?"

"No one," Remus said, "and we're hoping to keep it that way for a while; I don't want her to lose her job over me _especially_ if it doesn't last between us. I hope it does; I really like her."

"When can I meet her?"

Remus thought about it for a minute. "Soon, but not yet. Wait until James and Lily have come round so you can all meet her together. I think you'll really like her."

Sirius clapped Remus on the arm. "I'm really pleased for you - have you scored yet?"

"_Sirius_..."

Padfoot laughed and got up. "I'm only kidding. Do you want to stay for dinner tonight? I'll put Harry down and we can have a Lads night in, in replacement for the one neither of us could get to. I'll order pizza from the place down the road if you like and I've got plenty of beer in the fridge... Unless you're going out with Olivia that is."

"_Lydia_," Remus corrected. "You have _terrible_ memory when it comes to remembering girls' names and that sounds great. Just let me go home and get changed and I'll be back in half an hour."

...

Remus was back at work the following day, trying his best not to ogle at his girlfriend through the glass wall as he attended countless tedious meetings throughout the day. She'd make subtle motions to him through the wall which would instantly cheer him up, only to be caught off guard by a question or statement being thrown his way, to which he would have to reply with a weary answer.

At three o'clock the meeting finished and Remus made haste to leave the room before having more irksome questions being asked. Amos ran alongside him and immediately ordered a coffee from Lydia and went straight into the office. Remus, however, lingered by Lydia's desk.

"It looked like you were having fun," she noted. "All those boring old Ministry Officials in suits their Mother's picked out for them. I was jealous."

"Mhm... Sorry I couldn't do lunch today. Meeting number seven went on for a bit longer than I planned and when that finished, it was time for number eight. You didn't happen to get me anything while you were out, did you?" Lydia produced a cheese and onion pasty, and a smile. "I'd kiss you right now if I could."

"You can just make up for it by taking me out to dinner tonight instead."

Remus took the pastry out the wrapper and took a lustrous bite. "Sounds good - give me a minute to get some money. How much do I owe you for this?"

"It's on me."

"Are you sure?" Lydia nodded. "Thank God for that; now I haven't wasted _my_ money on this disgusting pastry."

Lydia laughed. "_I _made it."

"And it's lovely." Once more she laughed, and Remus took another bite. "Did you really make it? It's delicious."

"I did," she smiled. "It was going to be for my lunch, but Jarvis came round with the food trolley and I couldn't resist."

"Resist Jarvis or the food?"

She shot him an amused look. "You know my eyes are only set on you."

"As they should be," he gobbled up the rest of the pastry. "And mine for you."

"It doesn't feel right hiding it from people in the office though-"

"-_Lydia_..."

"What? I know you said that we shouldn't publicize it, that you don't want me to be the girl who's seeing the boss, but it's so hard not to want you when you look so _divine_ in your lovely suit and tie..." Her fingers played with the tie round Remus' neck, and Remus pulled away, anxiously looking around. "Are - are you _embarrassed_ by me?"

"No," Remus said abruptly. "Of _course_ not, but I don't want you to-"

"-lose my job. I know," Remus frowned. "I don't care if I lose my job! I'd go and quit right now if you let me. But you won't; you're too kind."

"And you're too young to throw your life away for one romance-"

"-Remus, this is a _shit_ job working for a _shit_ boss!" Her voice rose. "Mr. Diggory _hates_ me and I know he's looking to replace me with some _new model_-"

"-Don't be ridiculous-"

"-I'm not, I just don't want our relationship to be a sordid little love affair! You either pay your affections to me at work or you don't pay your affections to me anywhere. Capiche?"

Remus bowed his head. "Please just give it some time, Lydia. I'd tell Amos - _Mr. Diggory_ today, but he's not in the best of moods what with all of these meetings... Please darling... Just give it some time."

"Fine," she replied. "Fine I'll give it some time."

"Thank you."

She wasn't hard to persuade, Remus had found that out easily. Lydia handed him two mugs of coffee, one for him and one for Amos. "You didn't spit in his, did you?"

"Of course not," she said angelically, batting her eyelids, "he's my favourite boss."

"Get back to work now Miss. Greengrass and I'll be round yours at the usual time. Unless you've got other plans, that is."

"My other plans were watching Coronation Street on our new television in the front room with the dogs. I'm sure the Rover's Return will remain standing for one night while I'm absent and out with you. I'll just have to ask Mum very nicely if she can make note on what's happening. I'm sure the insubstantial love life of Audrey and Alf is much less significant to _my real_ one."

"Anyone's relationship is less important than ours. I better give these coffees to Mr. Diggory now - eight o'clock, don't forget."

She wouldn't forget, and watched longingly as Remus walked slowly into his boss' office, carrying two mugs of steaming hot coffee. One contained love and the other ink.

...

The day of December tenth the Wizarding World was anxiously waiting. There were updates at the Ministry of Magic and Witches and Wizards came in from all over the world for the latest news on the Potter's. While everyone waited for second-hand updates, four people were allowed access to see James and Lily Potter first hand: Albus Dumbledore, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black and Harry Potter.

Albus was the last to arrive and he got there at ten o'clock in the morning. They were told that they would come round at any point during the day and only Albus ever left their side to get coffee for the men. Remus and Sirius waited ages, with baited breath, for the young couple to awaken, and after seven hours of anxious waiting on Albus' part they finally did. It was James who woke first.

His hazel eyes fluttered open and looked around his surroundings. He expected to be at home in Godric's Hollow, but the blank white ceiling told him that he was not. Sirius jumped up in alarm when he saw the first bit of movement and shouted: "PRONGS!" Which alerted every staff member to crowd around the Potter's bedside.

"Padfoot?" James asked. "Is that you? Where am I?" James sat up and looked around. "Am I in Mungo's?" He glances across at his wife. "What happened?"

Sirius didn't give chance for anyone to explain and dived on his best friend, throwing his arms around him and locking him into a tight hug. James patted Sirius on the back but was none the wiser to what had happened. "What happened? Why aren't I at home?"

"That doesn't matter," said Remus with a smile. "We're just so pleased you're okay."

"I'm not okay at the moment I've got a great _lump_ attached to me. What do you think you're doing Padfoot - get off me!"

Sirius wouldn't let go and said, through tears in his eyes. "We thought you were dead."

"_Dead_?" James reiterated.

"Where am I? Where's Harry?" The voice came from the red head beside James. Sirius let go of James and hugged Lily instead. She was a lot nicer than her husband about it and embraced Sirius warmly, kissing him on the cheek. "What happened to us? Was it Voldemort?"

"Voldemort?" James asked. "Voldemort! Oh Merlin Lily, are you alright?"

"Where's Harry?" Lily repeated. In order for her to hold Harry, Sirius had to let go of Lily. Remus passed Harry to Lily and she held him in her arms, and she laughed. "How long were we out for? He's a lot bigger than before. James, come and see how big our son is now!"

James crawled over to Lily's bed. "Blimey, what have you been feeding him?"

A look of concern passed everyone's face. It was Remus who asked the question everyone was thinking: "How are you so nonchalant about this? Voldemort attacked you for Merlin's sake."

"Because we _know_ what's happened Moony. We could hear everything you said to us and about us. Voldemort attacked our home and tried to kill us and Harry."

"But again, how are you so nonchalant about it?"

"We've had forty days to get used to it," Lily answered, not taking her eyes off Harry.

"You're right Sirius; this scar is amazing!"

"But you don't _understand_, Voldemort tried to kill _you_..."

"Moony," Sirius hissed. "Just leave it."

"And - and _Pettigrew_? You know about him?"

"I think it's a good thing James was out cold for that; he would have slaughtered him."

"But - but-"

"-Remus, James and Lily know everything we know, and it's been forty days. One can only imagine the panic that must have been going through their minds when they first found out. But forty days have gone by and they've gotten used to it like we did. I think they're just happy to be with their son again."

Remus watched the scene that took place in front of him. Lily was lying in her bed, propped up by pillows James had arranged for her and had Harry on her lap. James was kneeling beside her on the bed tickling him and Sirius was on the foot of the bed, craning over Harry and his best friends. Remus found it impossible to comprehend how easily the Potters' got used to the ordeal and how quickly adapted they were to it, but when James looked up at him, smiled and said: "come sit here, Remus," he understood; they were just pleased to see their friends and Harry again that the initial shock of forty days ago wore off, and they obsessed over something new.

So Remus took James' advice and joined them on the bed. "So, has anything new happened in _your_ lives?"

"You remember about Frank and Alice, surely?"

"Of course," Lily said, "oh I was so upset for _days_ after you told me! I longed to see them and Neville... But I'm pleased the Death Eater's who did this to them, to us all, are in Azkaban now. Albus, does this mean the war's over?"

Albus had gone, as had the rest of the staff. "He's gone," Sirius stated.

"I thought he'd turned invisible," said James sarcastically.

Sirius scowled at his best friend and said: "I think I preferred it when you were in the coma. At least you can have Harry now."

"Has he been a good boy?" Lily cooed.

"What, you mean apart from drinking all the beer in the fridge? Yeah, he's been good."

Lily shot him a look. "Don't even joke about that."

Sirius smiled and leaned over and kissed Lily Potter on the cheek. "I missed your nagging, Potter."

"And I missed _your_ irresponsibility, Black. I can't believe they trusted you to look after my son."

"It was either me or Petunia," Sirius said, "they were going to give Harry to her, but we were adamant that they would not. I fought your corner, don't worry Lily. So you should be thanking me, I'm pleased to get rid of your little bugger."

"He's better behaved than you," Lily scolded.

"Not even five minutes and you're at each other's throats," said James, "I missed you guys."

"So did I," Sirius admitted. "And the two of you are welcome to stay with me as long as you want seeing that your house is... _destroyed_."

"We don't want to cramp your style."

"Should have thought about that before you got me stuck with your kid. Couldn't you guys have just kept your legs closed for _one_ day? If you had, we wouldn't be in this mess."

James looked at his wife and said: "I wish he'd shut up."

Lily grinned back at her husband and leaned in to give him his first kiss on the lips since they awoke. "I love you, James. You risked your life to protect me and Harry from Voldemort, unarmed, without a wand. I love you so much."

"Get a room."

"Shut up Padfoot."

"Soppy."

"Slag."

"Idiot."

"Dolt."

"_Children_," Lily interrupted. "Could you save this for a different time, preferably when James and I _haven't_ just woken up from a five week coma?" The argument was discontinued. "Thank you. So is it true what Albus told us? That the war's _really_ over?"

"Well, there hasn't been any fighting since the Longbottom attack so, yeah. Voldemort's been defeated, the Death Eaters have either fled, dead or gone to Azkaban and no one's tried to kill anyone yet, so I say yeah, the war's over."

"That's fantastic," Lily smiled.

"We can all get back to our lives now before the war."

"The only life we knew before the war was Hogwarts," James pointed out. "What have _you_ two been doing since the war ceased?"

"Looking after your kid - but Moony got a job, _and_ a girlfriend." James and Lily's heads both shot to Remus, Sirius mouthed 'you're welcome'.

"A job?" Lily echoed.

"A _girlfriend_? Flaming hell Moony, what's wrong with her?"

Sirius cackled with laughter. "Rude," he said.

"What's her name?" Lily asked, intrigued.

"Lydia Greengrass," he admitted. "She's-"

"-Nineteen."

"Yes, nineteen and positively wonderful."

"That's great!" Lily gushed. "How long have you been together - what's she like?"

"We've been together almost four weeks now and she's my secretary. I work for the Ministry of Magic, for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures with Amos Diggory. They opened up a new division recently for the study and rights of creatures like Werewolves and Centaurs and Hippogriffs. It's really interesting actually and I'm the Head of the Division and have loads of people working for me."

"That's fantastic; bird and job within a month, you've picked up your game. No, I'm only joking; that's bloody fantastic." The added bit on the end was in result to a glance from Lily. "So... um... what's the um... day today?"

"December tenth."

"You know Padfoot; it surprises me that out of all the useless _crap_ you informed me on, you never thought to tell me how the Tornadoes are doing in the league."

"Seventh from bottom."

"Aw_ shit_."

"That's pretty bad," agreed Lily. "I told you that you should support the Holyhead Harpies."

"You have no interest in Quidditch. You just support them because you're all for Women's rights - a _feminist_."

"Well I think it's totally sexist how every other team in the League are strictly male!"

"Leslie Turpin for the Appleby Arrows is a woman."

"No she's not Padfoot; we had this discussion last May when they won the cup. She's just a very pretty man."

Sirius gave Lily a smile and a shrug. "Close enough?" He asked.

Close enough was all she would get out of them. The four friends were so delighted to be reunited with each other at last they didn't care about anything else. Their friendship and conversations picked up like nothing had happened since October and two of them hadn't been hospitalised. Two days later they were released from Hospital and stayed in Sirius' flat until they found a new place to live with Harry, but it was so good to be around him again they didn't rush. And he couldn't have asked for anything else...


	4. To See in The Year

**A.N**. I've had a pretty stressful week, what with exams and plotting evil revenge on an ex-boyfriend (not saying what; plausible deniability) so I apologise for the late chapter - but it gave you more time to read, favourite, review and alert to this story! You probably don't even read these Author's Notes, but if you do, a **review **would really speed up my writing, otherwise you're going to have to wait a little while for the next update (sorry)!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

**Previously: **Remus got a job, where he met girlfriend Lydia Greengrass. Lydia and Remus kiss after their first date and Lydia invites Remus for dinner with her parents one night. Lydia is impatient that they are having to hide their relationship at work, and James and Lily are back!

**Contact: **satansbowtie**dot**tumblr**dot**com - **replace dot with **.

_Enjoy =)_

* * *

James and Lily found a house they liked just inside the centre of London, a twenty minute walk away from Kings Cross and the same distance from Sirius' flat. It was a nice, spacious house in the middle of a suburban area. They had a capacious back garden, which lead onto another sizeable back garden, and the house itself was as large as the back garden. It had five bedrooms spread out on the second and third floor. Harry's bedroom was across the hall from Lily and James' on the middle floor and had the view of the aforementioned garden. On the bottom floor was a nice and large kitchen which pleased Lily, with the Dining Room sharing the floor and the living room on the other side of the stair case with the downstairs bathroom and study.

Sirius suggested throwing a large house party. Lily declined.

They moved in a few days before Christmas and the Potter's were fortunate enough to spend Christmas Day in the new house. Lily and Remus had dedicated a day to decorating the house, with James and Sirius reluctantly stringing Muggle lights outside on the roof. But when the house was complete, James did have to admit that it looked rather nice. Sirius, on the other hand, commented that it looked 'as tacky as a Muggle grotto,' which earned a whack with the dishcloth from Lily.

On Boxing Day, Sirius and James spent the day in Diagon Alley shopping and selling Christmas Presents. If Sirius or James didn't like a gift, they would take it to a shop down Knockturn Alley and the shopkeeper would give them a reasonable price for their goods. The woman who owned it was a Slytherin in the year below the boys' and gave them 'mates rates' as the Muggle's called it.

"It's not too bad to know a Slytherin," Sirius remarked, shoving his galleons in his pocket. "And Andromeda sends me those trinkets every year for my Birthday and Christmas and I just don't have the _heart_ to tell her I don't like them."

"No, I think you like gaining ten galleons every time you sell one of them."

"I got eight for that one," Sirius corrected, disheartened.

"Eight more galleons than you had this morning! You can buy the drinks in the Leaky Cauldron then."

"Oh, cheers Prongs."

The men emerged from Knockturn Alley and walked towards Gringotts and the shops that were located nearby. As if by ritual, both men stopped outside the Quidditch shop, and Sirius longingly sighed at the latest broom on offer.

"You're a dick for turning down Puddlemere, Prongs," Sirius informed for the umpteenth time.

"I'm a Canons fan; I couldn't play for the opposition."

"Yeah, but it'd mean you can play _professional_ Quidditch, Prongs! Could you imagine the attention you'd draw?"

"I think I've drawn enough attention to myself for now, don't you?" Sirius didn't reply and muttered something instead. "_You_ can always play for them; I'm sure they'd _love_ to have an ex-Gryffindor player who got kicked off the squad when he was fourteen for smashing a guy's skull in."

"Not my proudest moment," Sirius admitted. "I was a bit of a dick back then."

"Nothing's changed."

Sirius gave out a fake hoot of laughter and the two men turned back up the street, towards the Leaky Cauldron when it started to rain. They just got into the pub as the first copious torrent of rain fell from the sky. The men took off their jackets and gave them a shake, hanging them on the coat rack to dry. They entered the bar and James called to Tom the Landlord for two pints of beer and Tom replied that he would bring them over, when Sirius put his arm out to stop James from walking any further.

"Look," commanded Sirius.

"What - _oh_."

Before them, in a booth sat close together, were Remus and who the two men could only assume was Lydia, nuzzled up together over lunch. James pulled Sirius back out of view and the two sat in a booth, two down from the amorous couple. Sirius was grinning ear to ear, standing up to get a better look.

"Are we going to spy on them?" Sirius suggested.

"_No_; we're not ten. We'll go and sit with them and introduce ourselves."

"_La-me_," Sirius sang. "I suggest we spy on them. Remus doesn't want us interrupting him and his 'Lady friend' otherwise he would have introduced us to her... She's very pretty, isn't she?"

James held up his left hand. "I'm a married man; I couldn't possibly comment."

"Well she is. She's _very_ pretty - why didn't I have a shot at her at Hogwarts? Remus said she was in detention a lot of the time and described as rebellious - she sounded just _perfect_ for past seventeen-year-old me!"

"She was with Crouch, remember?"

"Oh yeah, they were together for like... three _years_ Remus said?" James nodded. "Let's go and meet her."

The men got out of their booth and pretended to have just strolled in from the rain and not have noticed Remus and Lydia. As soon as Remus spotted the men, however, his face contorted into one of disbelief. Lydia, however, looked delighted to be acquainted with his friends at last.

She was automatically pretty, and it didn't take long to realize that. She had straight, light brown hair which fell just past her shoulders and her hair was cut into a front fringe. She wore a soft cardigan, plaid skirt and smile on her face, and it broadened when the men approached.

"Sirius... James... What are you doing here?"

"We just came from Diagon Alley in the rain and saw you sat here!" Sirius defended innocently, sliding into the booth with Remus and Lydia. He sat opposite Lydia and grinned at her. "Sirius Black."

"Lydia Greengrass."

"Oh, I know; Moony here talks about you a_lot_."

"Moony?" Lydia echoed with a laugh, and looked at her boyfriend. "Why does he call you that?"

"Nicknames from Hogwarts," James explained, joining Sirius in the booth. "James Potter."

"Nice to meet you," she smiled. "So... how long have you known Remus for?"

"Longer than you," Sirius said with a smile, "Moony, your wife called - and I don't think she'd be too pleased to find out that you're sat here having a lunch with a _very_ attractive girl while your children go hungry and without their Father."

"I'm - I'm not _married_," Remus was quick to defend.

"No, you're _divorced_! Now I remember."

Lydia only laughed and took a sip of her drink. Remus, meanwhile, though it was evident that what Sirius said was a playful lie, shot Sirius a look that, if looks could kill, Sirius would be six feet under. "I don't keep in contact with any of my friends from Hogwarts anymore; I think it's nice that the three of you are still such good friends."

"Aw," Sirius gushed. "You're sweet! So why are you dating Moony-"

"-_Sirius_-"

"-when you could be dating someone a lot more attractive like... um... me?"

"I think Remus has a lot more to offer than you, Sirius Black."

"Oh really, Lydia Greengrass? Like what?"

"Monogamy, per say."

That stumped Sirius, and all he could do was glare at Lydia. "You're not the type of girl Remus normally goes for - _ah_ beverages."

Tom arrived with drinks and James asked him to get Lydia and Remus another one, too, consequently paying for the round of drinks at the table. "Cheers!" James chirped, holding his glass up and the four clinked glasses. "So, what's it like to work for Remus, then?"

"Well, he's a _great_ boss," she explained. "He's fair and hard-working."

Sirius muttered something in James' ear that was barely audible to James, let alone Remus and Lydia who sat quietly. In response, James grinned and cleared his throat. "So what are you doing for New Year, Lydia?"

Lydia looked at Remus. "Well, we haven't planned anything yet."

"What? You mean he hasn't invited you to James and Lily's New Year party?"

"What New Year party?" Lydia asked delightfully.

"New Year Party?" Remus echoed. "You never mentioned it to me."

"Yeah," James agreed. "_What_ New Years Eve party Lily and I are planning?"

"Well, I've been thinking about it for the past few days, and you've got a lot of friends and a lot of people to invite round to your new house, so I thought: what Holiday is coming up soon and who throws the best house parties?"

"A party would be great!" Lydia exclaimed. "What time?"

"Nine."

"There's _no_ party; Lily would never agree to this."

"Oh come _on_Prongs! Lighten up! Lily would so agree to this! She loves parties and New Year! It's a great idea! Come on Prongs, please, please, please, please, _please_?"

"Yeah, come on Prongs!" Lydia united.

It was as if two five-year-olds were persuading James to throw a party, and not a twenty-two-year-old qualified man and a nineteen-year-old secretary, dating her boss. A chorus of 'please' passed through the pair and while Remus watched with amusement, James had to make the difficult decision as to whether he relented to throw a party without his wife's consent, or decline his best friend's and let them throw a party in his house anyway without him knowing.

"Okay, I'll throw a party." ("Yay!") "But the three of you have to help out with preparing food, decorating and hosting; you can't leave all the work to Lily; it's going to be hard enough to persuade her to throw one as it is, let alone convince her to cater and _clean_ for it, as well. So agreed?"

"Yes!" Sirius said gleefully. "I'll be round with food and drink, I'll do the guest list and I'll-"

"-_No_," James said abruptly, "no absolutely not. Remus and Lydia can do the guest list. Not you."

"Why?" Sirius complained.

"Because the last party I had you planned the guest list and I distinctly remember my wife saying to you-" cue James' awful Lily impression. "_Sirius Black_! We do not know half of these people in my house! There are footballers and dancers and _prostitutes_!"

"In my defence... There were no dancers."

"No, I remember Candace," Remus recollected and then, with a look from Lydia, hastily added: "...because of the massive growth on her chin."

"Mhm... I believe you."

With that, she leaned up and pecked Remus on the lips. Sirius made a gagging noise and James stood up. "On that note, I ought to go and break the news to my wife that we're hosting a party in _five_ days. Remus, do the guest list and Sirius, get the supplies and Lydia, it was nice meeting you."

"You too," smiled the pretty brunette.

"Good luck," wished Sirius. "You'll need it."

To whom he was wishing luck to (Lydia or James) was unbeknownst.

...

So James arrived home that afternoon after luncheon with Remus, Sirius and Lydia with a bouquet of flowers for his lovely wife, who was already preparing dinner in the kitchen with Harry sat in his high chair, slapping his hands on the orange plastic tray.

Lily had always been beautiful and possessed an air of elegance that, if you could not detect, was shamefully missed. But she was also unusual looking. She had long, vibrant red hair that swayed and swished as she walked. It was soft and always smelt of avocado shampoo that she used. James could memorise the sweet smell just by closing his eyes. The scent of Lily: perfume with a hint of avocado. It was bliss. And her eyes too: green: bright and shiny as emeralds and shaped like almonds. Harry had inherited her eyes - a lucky trait, James might add, and anyone could detect that he was her son, just by looking at the eyes, and as James studied the beauty before him, he couldn't help but remind him just how _lucky_ he was (forgetting the past few months).

"Hello Lily dear," James cooed. "I brought you flowers."

He extracted the bouquet of roses from behind his back and Lily cocked her head to the side, studying him. "Roses? How ironic. Alright then James, what have you done this time?"

"Why must you think that I have done something wrong? Can't you just think, that in consequence to these past months, that I merely wished to spoil my wife and _lavish_ her in beautiful scented roses, as beautiful as the flower stood before me?"

"I'm sorry James, I just thought..." She walked to him, kissed him on the lips and took the flowers. She turned her back to find a vase in the cupboard for the flowers, and when she pulled out a crystal vase, she saw the smirk on James' face, the look of mendaciousness. "What _have_ you done this time?"

"I bumped into Moony in The Leaky Cauldron when I went out with Sirius," James informed as Lily turned on the faucet and began to fill up the vase with water.

"Hmh? And how was he?"

"Fine... Very fine actually; he was with his girlfriend."

That caught Lily's attention and she turned around. "Really? And what's she like?"

"She seems nice," James told her.

"And what has Lydia got to do with what you've done wrong?"

"_Well_," James began. "Sirius invited Lydia to the New Years Eve party that-we're-hosting-in –five-days. I hope that's okay."

She contemplated it for a moment, and instead of swatting James with the flowers like he expected, she nodded. "I think that's a great idea! We can invite everyone from our year and the Order of the Phoenix - have a little reunion! See out the old year and toast in a new and, hopefully better, new one! James that's fantastic!"

"Really? I thought you'd be against the whole idea after the Halloween party we agreed to host for Sirius the other year..."

"Just so long as Sirius gets no say in who's invited, then that's fine with me."

James broke out into a smile, moved round the work surface in the kitchen and hugged his wife. "I love you so much, you know?"

"Of course I know," she said, "how could I not?"

He gently kissed the side of Lily's neck. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

...

True to their word, Sirius and Remus arrived early to help with the party. Sirius had brought the alcohol (a _lot_ of it), but had forgotten the food, and on a _drastic_ errand from Lily, dashed to the shops to buy last-minute party food. Lily was cleaning the house with the assistance from her husband and Remus (who was nursing an ill head due to Full Moon being in four days) had gone to collect Lydia and take her to the Potters'.

When she arrived Remus lead her into the house. With her she brought a bottle of champagne and was briefly welcomed by James who, instead of dusting the lounge, sat with his feet up on the coffee table playing with Harry.

"Hey - you've got a real nice house, James," Lydia informed.

"Hullo Lydia," James sighed. "And I know. Will one of you hold Harry? I'll go and get the Mrs."

Lydia volunteered in taking sixteen-month-old out of James' arms. He dashed up the stairs and Lydia turned to her boyfriend. "I've only heard rumours, but the scar is pretty exceptional, wouldn't you say?"

"I'm used to it," Remus dismissed. "Muggles stare at him in the street, wondering what James and Lily do to him to get a scar like that."

Lydia laughed and kissed Harry on the cheek. "They don't know how wonderful you are? Do they, Darling? He's a big boy - how old is he?"

"Sixteen months," came Lily's voice from the hallway. She soon emerged, beaming at Lydia. "I'm Lily. Remus has told me a _lot_ about you, Lydia!"

James rushed to Lydia's aid and took Harry off her, resulting in Lydia being open for a welcoming hug from Lily. From behind, Remus held up the bottle of liquor. "She brought champagne!"

"So did Padfoot - six bottles at least."

"Six bottles?" Lydia echoed, removing herself from Lily's warming hug. "This was almost five galleons!"

"You know Sirius: he thinks the Knight Bus at ten sickles is too expensive, but spending three hundred galleons equivalent in the Muggle world is a good price for seventy-four bottles of varied liquor."

"I resent that, Prongs!" Sirius exclaimed, barging into the living room with a dramatic entrance, lots of bags of food flying behind him, which Lily, James, Remus and Lydia made it their business to retrieve and put in the kitchen. "It was seventy-two."

"No it wasn't; you drunk those two bottles of cider," Lily countered.

"It's good stuff," Sirius reasoned innocently, him making it _not_his business to put the shopping away.

Once the shopping was cleared, Lydia was assigned by Lily to help with the preparation of the food. As it turned out, Lydia was very _handy_ in the kitchen, but it still took a lot of time to cook, prepare and make the dishes Sirius had brought. While the men had cleared out to be somewhere else in the house (the living room, drinking alcohol no doubt) Lily had the opportunity to speak to Lydia alone.

"So what do you think to Remus then?" Lily asked.

"He's _fantastic_! He's so smart and handsome and he knows everything about everything!" She gushed like a fourteen-year-old might. "I think I love him."

_Definitely like a fourteen-year-old_. "That's... _nice_."

"What was he like in Hogwarts?"

"What do you mean?" Lydia repeated her question. "Oh... Well... Remus and I became good friends in fifth year when we were both Prefects. He's always been kind - you're right. The only one out of the four of them I could tolerate until sixth year."

"He's easy to talk to, isn't he?"

"I suppose he is."

"Did you? I mean... Did you two ever?"

Lily turned her head round to Lydia, who almost seemed nervous at the prospect. "No, we never did. I think I fancied him a bit in Second Year, though, but nothing more than that. He's a lovely bloke, don't get me wrong, but he's not always the best in expressing his feelings, is he?" Lydia made no comment. "Of course though, he might have changed since then. We all thought he was asexual until he finally got himself a girlfriend."

"I heard those rumours," Lydia recalled. "Has he ever... you know?"

"Had sex?" Lydia nodded. "Yeah, with his ex-girlfriend that is – I remember Sirius announcing it to the Common Room one evening. Why?"

She shrugged. "How - how long were they together?"

"Oh... um..." Lily tried to recall how long Remus and his ex-girlfriend (Lily couldn't even remember her name) were together for. Lily was curious, at first, as to why Lydia was so interested in Remus' sexual past, but then she caught on. "You two... you haven't done _anything_ yet, have you?"

"We've done... _stuff_," Lydia blushed.

"Like..." She implied.

Lydia shook her head. "No."

"_No_?"

"No." She was shocked and Lydia nodded, almost embarrassed. "You must have remembered me in Hogwarts or at _least_ heard rumours?" Lily nodded; she'd recalled rumours about Lydia a couple of nights ago with James. "Well they're all true."

"_All of them_?"

"Yes," she shamefully admitted.

"Even the one where you and Shacklebolt and McMillan had sex together?" She nodded. "And anal with Charlie Cooper?" Again, she nodded. "And the one with Professor Slughorn-"

"-_Merlin_ no," Lydia laughed. "I wouldn't go that far, contrary to popular belief. I was a slut back then, I'll admit it. It never occurred to me, in a thousand _years_that I would consider having a long-term partner who I liked so much I wasn't overly bothered about not having sex with." Lily cocked an eyebrow. "Okay, yes I'm bothered, but not as much as I thought I would be. I never thought I'd be one for... _monogamy_."

"There's nothing wrong with craving sex," Lily said, "trust me, when James and I first started dating, he and I-"

Lydia held up her hand. "_Please_ don't go into detail."

"You're only nineteen, Lydia; your world doesn't revolve around sex. Granted, a lot of people your age are out and having sex, but you've grown up since then and you had that phase _remarkably young_, I might add. Now you're ready to settle down with Remus and make love when the time is right and it happens. You are going to wait, aren't you?"

"Of course."

"Because I can't stand the thought that someone he cares about so much like you would leave him because there's a lack of sex involved."

"I wouldn't," she defended. "I like Remus - a _lot_; he's the only boyfriend I've ever not cheated on."

Lily pursed her lips. "That's..._nice_. You probably shouldn't tell him that, though. Just give it time. I'm sure Remus wants the same things you do, but is just too nervous to ask you for it in case he feels you're not ready or being pressured."

"You think so?"

"I _do_. Now, can you whisk the eggs in the bowl for me, please?"

...

The three guests went home one hour before the party was due to start and returned fifteen minutes early. Each of them wore fresh clothes but when they arrived, Lily was still getting ready. James and Harry were resting on the sofa and James was loudly complaining (in hope Lily could hear) how long his wife took to get ready. Remus was going to comment on Lydia's length of time, but she shot him a look and went to join Sirius at the drinks table.

"What are you having to drink then? Let me guess: a glass of white wine?"

"I don't like wine," she replied. "Too strong... Hmh... Just a vodka and diet coke."

"Vodka and coke?"

"_Diet_ coke. Please."

Sirius passed her a can of diet coke and vodka. "I'm not making it for you - but why would you want diet? It's horrible."

She popped the lid off the can. "Unnecessary calories."

In response, Sirius pulled a face of disgust. "You girls and your calorie counting and dieting - it makes no sense! You've all got a pair of tits. Fat or not, I'd sleep with you."

"What a lovely and honest response," Lydia declared. "But there's no way you'd sleep with a fat bird."

"Really? Care to make a bet on that?"

Lydia eyed him sceptically. "What's the bet?"

"That I can pull the fattest bird in the room tonight."

"No; that's mean."

"If I lose - which is _highly_ unlikely given my motivation and devilish good looks - then _you_ have to make out with the oldest man in the room."

"No way; I'm dating your _best friend_!"

Sirius turned to Remus and called at him across the room: "Oi Moony, you won't mind if your girlfriend makes out with another bloke, would you?"

"_Yes_," said Remus and Lydia gave Sirius an I-Told-You-So-Look. "Out of curiosity, Lydia, why are you planning on making out with another bloke?

"I'm not," she remarked, leaving Sirius at the table and sitting next to Remus on the sofa instead. "He wants me to make a bet with him that he can shag the fattest girl in the room."

"Ooh - I think Lily's sister's coming and she's pretty fat - I'll ask her," James ran out the room and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. "HEY LIL?"

Silence, until. "WHAT?"

"IS YOUR SISTER FAT?"

From the living room, there was laughter, and from the stairway came footsteps. "No, you met Petunia at her wedding - she's as thin as a stick."

"Who was the fat one then?"

"Vernon's Sister Marge."

"_Oh_," James realised. "Oh, she's not coming, is she?"

"No, and neither is Petunia."

"Haven't you invited your sister?" Lydia asked, surprised.

"I haven't spoken to her," Lily explained.

"Why?"

"It's complicated," Lily frowned.

"Can _I_ tell the story?" Sirius asked eagerly, and did so, without Lily's permission. "You see, Lily's Muggleborn and Petunia was jealous of her when she became a Witch and Petunia didn't."

"I know that we'll resolve things eventually," Lily added. "But as for now... I just want to give her some time and space to calm down. I don't want to give her any more opportunity to hate me more than she already does."

"And I thought _I_ had sibling problems," Sirius yawned. "Come on; let's not bum the party out before it's already begun!" There was a knock on the door and Sirius jumped in delight. "I think I hear guests!"

...

Soon, the house began to fill out and the trays of food, too. Lily tried her best not to worry about stains on the carpet or scuffs on the wall, but it was nearly impossible not to. A lot of the people in her house she didn't know, and a lot of them, most likely, were Witches and Wizards who had caught the information that the Potter's were throwing a party and wanted to catch a sight of the infamous Harry Potter. But sadly, for them, Harry was asleep in his bedroom with a lock on the door that no one but James or Lily could penetrate (so they hoped)...

James and Lily spent the night by each other's side, and it was the same for Lydia and Remus. Sirius, however, was at _many_ different girls' sides all night, and because of the failed bet with Lydia, he did not associate with any fat ones.

The countdown to midnight came quickly, and with only five minutes left, the rush for partners for the Midnight Kiss began to get more hectic. Sirius had already found _his_ partner for the Midnight Kiss: Lily's cousin Maria, who, despite Lily's pleas for Sirius not to make out with, they currently resided in James and Lily's bed, unknown to them.

"Happy New Year," James said, with only thirty seconds to go, "this has been a pretty shit one."

Lily thought to scold him on his language, but decided against it. "Agreed."

"Well here's to a new one," James said, toasting his glass with Lily. "Happy New Year, my darling."

"Happy New Year, James."

They kissed each other passionately for almost three minutes as cheers, applause and the sound of kissing erupted all around them. James and Lily broke their embrace, and they were not the last.

Other to the other side of the room, Lydia and Remus were still kissing. Five minutes (almost) past until they broke up, their faces still close together, Lydia holding onto Remus' tie, Remus holding Lydia's hip. As they gazed into each other's eyes, Lydia thought to ask Remus what she wanted most from him at that point.

"I thought, to break in the New Years, shall we go to your place or mine?"

Remus bit his lip and kissed Lydia again. "Grab your coat, we're going to mine."

* * *

_**Forgot to do this last chapter - sorry guys! But here are some answers to your reviews!**_

**smiling-is-my-favorite-pastime -**thanks! I read the first bit of your review and I thought it was going to be critical - but I was so pleased that they weren't!  
**the-sparky-scribblings**** -**I suppose having forty days to get used to the fact that they were put in a coma would calm their nerves a bit and nonchalant: love that word.

_**Reviews are better than ordering 13 anchovy pizzas to an ex-boyfriend's house when he's allergic to anchovies and still having to buy them =)**_


	5. The Lydia Incident

**A.N**. A bit of a quicker update, guys, and I just want to fill you in on the future of this story: from Chapter Eleven, the story will skip several years until Harry and co. go to Hogwarts, because anything really in between those years are a bit mundane, as the crew have to get their life on track and there's nothing very relevant after a shock turn of events... Want to know what that twist of fate is? Then **review**, favourite and alert to the story! Yay!

**Disclaimer: **Nihil habeo

**Previously: **James and Lily were put in a coma and during that time, Remus got a job and found himself dating the beautiful minx: Lydia Greengrass who he has kept a secret from his friends, until an encounter in Diagon Alley with the duo, James and Sirius, which lead to Sirius inviting Lydia to the Potter's New Years Party. At the party (which James and Lily didn't even agree with), Lydia got acquainted with James, Sirius and Lily and became fast friends with Lily and faster friends with Sirius. While preparing food, Lydia confessed that she and Remus hadn't had sex yet, and with some good advice from Lily, the two, at the end of the night, return to Remus' apartment and Lydia's desires are granted - and that's what you missed on TT.

**Contact: **satansbowtie**dot**tumblr**dot**com - **replace dot with **.

_Enjoy =)_

* * *

When Remus awoke there was a warm, naked body beside him cocooned in blankets. It was Lydia, and it didn't come as a surprise to Remus, at all, that she would be there; she had slept with him every night for the past two weeks, and Remus had to conclude that those evening/nights they spent together were bliss. Not peaceful, but bliss.

Lydia and Remus were both early risers, but Remus normally beat Lydia and the alarm clock by fifteen minutes. That would generally give him the chance to have a quick shower and struggle to not wake up Lydia. He nearly always woke up Lydia when he got out the shower, but she would stay in bed, unmoved, with her eyes closed until Remus returned to the bedroom.

The morning when they went back to work was no different; Remus had accidently woken up Lydia and she was lying in bed, this time, eyes open with a smile.

"Will my boss fire me if I oversleep fifteen minutes?" She inquired.

"Only if we're late together."

Remus, fully-dressed, lay back on the bed with Lydia. She rested her head on his stomach and exhaled deeply. "I love this," Lydia smiled, and was kissed gently on the lips by Remus. "I don't want to have to go back to work; I want to stay with you, like this, forever."

"It had to end eventually," he reasoned. "Just nine more hours until we can be back like this after work."

She groaned. "_Nine_ hours? Can't we come back for lunch..."

"I don't think that's very appropriate."

"You're probably right," agreed the brunette. "When do you have to go away?"

"This Thursday." (Another groan). "It's not _too_ bad. I'll be in Arizona until Wednesday - maybe Tuesday - it depends on how my study is going."

"Isn't it _dangerous_?"

"No," said Remus, "not really."

"I see on your body so many wounds and cuts and scars and bruises - didn't they _hurt_?"

Remus just looked at her, like he was going to confess something to her. But she wouldn't understand the pain he goes through. So instead, he just slowly shook his head and sat up. Lydia did too, and rubbed his shoulders from behind.

"I'm sorry. I just care about you, that's all. I don't want you getting hurt."

"It's all okay, I - I don't even remember most of them." She cast him a sceptical look. "Honest to Merlin, Lydia - I'm fine!"

"I know," she said softly, "I know you are but I just care about you, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, but what I do Lydia, is important. It's no more dangerous than what an Auror does. I go to look after these poor men and women every Full Moon and I make sure that they're okay. I'm studying a man at the moment and I log his eating patterns, sleeping patterns and progressing wounds and I make sure he's alright. It's not dangerous, Lydia, only if I allow it to be."

"I know," she simpered, tracing her finger down his spine. "I only worry, that's all."

He knew she did, and that was why he couldn't tell her the truth. What he did: the logging of eating patterns, sleeping patterns and progressing wounds were true, but he did the reports on _himself_. "I know you do, and I love you for it."

_What_? _I love you_? Remus certainly hadn't meant to say that. He began to take his words back, but none came out of his mouth. He just began stammering useless sounds that could not be interpreted as anything else. Lydia, however, did not catch onto this and cupped his face and pulled his head closer.

"Do you really mean that?" Remus began to make a sound, which Lydia wrongly interpreted as a yes, and so kissed him. "Oh Remus, I love you too."

...

Lily felt lonely.

And she did not understand why. It wasn't as if she was alone ever; James was always in the house with her and Harry, so why did she feel lonely? She didn't understand. She just felt this empty pit in her stomach and rubbed it unconcernedly, as she watched, from the kitchen, James feeding Harry in the high chair. She tried to understand how she felt forlorn. She had a husband who was by her side twenty-four-seven. She had Sirius who was round the house every day, and thrice a week for dinner, and Remus, who visited the Potters' twice a week, sometimes bringing Lydia along, and then she had Harry: the beautiful baby boy she gave birth to, early in the morning on August 31st 1980, who she grew in her womb, created with egg and sperm... Was that why she felt lonely? Because she no longer had Harry blossoming inside her? She thought that was ridiculous until the thought of having another baby aroused.

They were in a much better situation than they were three years ago when Lily discovered her pregnancy. She had been scared for Harry, scared what world he would be growing up in. But Harry was safe for now, and if they had a new baby... would everything be better?

"James can you - can you put Harry down for a minute? I need to talk to you."

James looked at her, concerned. "What's up Lils?"

"Nothing, I just need to talk to you."

He complied and moved into the living room, which only took a few steps to accomplish. Lily joined him, sitting on the sofa.

"What's up?" He repeated.

She didn't know how to ask him; it wasn't as if she'd planned anything. Actually, it wasn't as if she had thought about it at _all_. She wasn't even completely sure this was what she wanted, but there was a large part of her that _did_ want this, but it wasn't just her decision. She and James had never considered children before Harry - they just got lucky with him.

"James, are you happy?"

"_Happy_," James echoed. "Of course I'm happy, Lily - why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know," she admitted glumly.

"Well tell me what's wrong."

She glanced over at Harry, and then let out a deep sigh. "Do you remember when I told you I was pregnant with Harry, how pleased we were but scared at the same time?" James nodded. "Well... We're in a lot better place to raise a baby now, and I was thinking... do you want to try for another baby?"

"Do _you_ want to?"

She nodded. "I do - I really do."

James took his wife's hand, and kissed it gently. "Are you sure want this? I don't want you to think that you have to, just to please me. I wouldn't want you to do that for me."

"No. It's for me - for _us_. James, I really want to have another baby with you."

He smiled at her, and kissed her on the cheek. "Let's not rush into it. Good things come to those who wait."

"Oh James," Lily gushed, and stroked the side of his face. "I love you."

James kissed her on the lips instead. "I love you too."

...

Sirius couldn't remember the last time he had spent a night in the Leaky Cauldron - he must have been fourteen or fifteen, but now there he was again, drinking hot coffee while flicking through the Daily Prophet. There was nothing remotely interesting in the paper - there was nothing remotely interesting happening in Sirius' life now, either. Almost a month had passed in the New Year and... nothing. No twist of fate or anything to interest him, just nights and mornings full of meaningless, hot and passionate sex. But Sirius found himself jaded.

He was reading through the sports pages in the paper, when a ghost of a familiar face sat down opposite him at the table. Sirius glanced up to see a below average looking woman with thin, lank, blonde hair that was already greying, a long nose and somehow a blemish-free face.

"Good Morning, Sirius Black."

"Amelia Bones," Sirius noted. "How can I help you?"

"Actually, Mr. Black, it's how I can help _you_."

Sirius glanced at her, and slowly closed the paper. "Go on."

"I remember you from Hogwarts. Though we were many years apart, I remember you were always exceedingly good in arguments."

"Ms. Bones, I think someone as intelligent of you should be already aware that flattery gets you nowhere in life, but I appreciate the compliment, so you may proceed."

"Bertie Bolkins was proclaimed dead last Wednesday night in his home."

"Who?"

"He's in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It was such a shame to lose him; such a great man and talented Wizard, but we have to move on. As the Head of The Magical Law Enforcement, it is one of my many jobs to find a replacement for anyone who leaves us, and although we are the _largest _department at the Ministry of Magic, it is often difficult to find a job with here, which is why I would deem it wise for you to take me up on my offer and join us at The Department of Magical Law Enforcement as Mr. Bolkins replacement."

"Are you offering me a _job_, Ms. Bones?"

"Amelia," she corrected. "And yes I am."

Sirius leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms and studied the unattractive, professional Witch. "And what shall I be doing?"

"There are a lot of mini-divisions in which we provide, to name them, there are: The Magical Law Enforcement Patrol, Hit Wizards, Ministry of Magic Witch Watchers, Administrative Registration Department and the Investigation Department. They each involve the capturing of Dark Wizards across Britain."

"I didn't think there were many Death Eaters left, Amelia."

"Not strictly Death Eaters - though for the past two decades we were solely based upon capturing those of who you speak of. There is a vast increase in minors performing Dark Arts, imitating Death Eaters and You-Know-Who, and we would like you to join the team to capture them and put them to justice."

Sirius considered this declaration. It was a good job and a very good offer. It was an offer, Sirius might say, that he couldn't refuse. "How much are you going to pay me?"

"Is money such an important thing to you?"

"Isn't money important to everyone?"

"Yes," Amelia said, "I don't know the _exact_ amount you would be offered, but I reassure you, it is plenty enough for you to survive on and enjoy the luxuries in life."

Sirius scratched his chin. "When's my interview?"

Amelia smiled. "It's already happened."

"What? This was my interview - I've got the job _already_?"

"It's yours if you want it," she informed and stretched out her hand. "Will you be joining my team, Sirius?"

Sirius stared at it for a lengthy time, thinking of all the positive and negative outcomes to come from this, but he could only think of the positive. There was no negative for having a job that he would feel passionate about. He moved his gaze from Amelia's hands to her face, then back down again and shook her hand.

"It will be great working with you, Mr. Black," she responded and stood up, pulling her blazer down. "You shall start work at ten o'clock on Monday morning. Report to my office for a briefing and introduction to those working with you."

"I'll be there - thanks for this, Amelia."

"_Ms. Bones_," she contradicted. "Now that you are working for me, you address me as your superior. I shall see you Monday then."

"Of course," Sirius grumbled. "It will be an honour."

...

Sirius never knocked when he arrived at the Potters' or Remus' house, and the things he had encountered on those appearances were... _haunting_. Luckily, today, he encountered Lily reading a book on the sofa and James and Harry sat on the floor rolling a ball to each other. James and Lily were used to Sirius' unexpected visits so they barely acknowledged his presence, but Harry - who still found the whole concept of his Godfather appearing in his home out of thin air - jumped up and ambled over to Sirius on his stumpy little toddler legs.

"How's my favourite Godchild today?" Sirius cooed, swinging Harry in the air.

"Only Godchild!" Harry pointed out.

"You are," Sirius agreed, putting Harry on the floor. "You alright, guys?"

"Superb," James replied.

"Hullo Sirius," Lily greeted, trying not to avoid attention from her book, to which Sirius inquired what it was she was so enthralled in. "Northanger Abbey - Petunia sent me the box set for my birthday."

"Your birthday isn't for another fortnight," Sirius frowned then, looking at James. "Is it?"

"It is," James said, "Petunia just sent Lily the books, no card or message or anything."

"At least she bothered," Lily defended. "She didn't have to send me the books, and it's a _lovely_ present from her. I wrote her a thank you letter, but Sherlock came back empty."

Sirius pulled a face of disgust. "_Sherlock_... Lily, it was bad enough when you called your cat Heathcliffe and the other Fagin, but you've really hit a new low with Sherlock. I suppose Prongs didn't get a say in it."

"James suggested it," Lily replied.

"I was being sarcastic, darling."

"Hmh... So how can we help you, Sirius?"

"I had sex last night."

"Fantastic," said Lily dryly, "and is that it? Are you going to disrupt our three-year-old son with the gruesome details of your passionate sex life?"

"I don't know how you imagine me having sex, Lily-"

"-I _don't_ imagine-"

"-but my performance is not at all _crude_. Anyway, it's _after_ the sex I'm telling you about, so Harry doesn't need to leave the room. Okay, so the story starts with me, drinking a coffee downstairs in the Leaky Cauldron when I'm joined at my table by a familiar lady, Amelia Bones. Do you remember her?" James and Lily did. "She offered me a job working for her, and long story short, you're now looking at a member of The Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

James was astonished. "I thought you were going to say you picked up another bird and shagged her in the bathroom while the other girl was asleep."

"_James_," Lily scolded, looking at Harry who paid little or no attention to the conversation. "And that's fantastic Sirius - come here!"

Lily closed her book and got off the sofa to embrace Sirius. She kissed him on the cheek. "This is fantastic news - well done! What will you be doing?"

"Uh, I don't know."

"How much will they be paying you?" James questioned.

"I don't know."

"Do you know _anything_ about your new job?"

"Yeah," Sirius said, "no. No not really. It doesn't really matter, though: I'm _doing_ something in my life. Before this, my life was empty. I was all alone and I have no one to share my undeserved wealth with. But now I'll be _earning_ all the gold in my vault and maybe this new job is the start of a new life. I'm _tired_ of stringing along loads of women and now, as a Professional man, I'm ready to settle down and control my life. I'm ready to become a man."

"You're _tired_ of having countless nights of sex?"

"No," Sirius admitted. "I lied. I lied about all of that - I'm thinking about using it as a line to pull birds, do you think it will work?"

Lily clipped Sirius round the head with her book. "Want a piece of advice in pulling women? Don't call them 'birds'! And treat them with respect! Women don't like men who treat us like dirt, have sex with us once and never again!"

"Hey, who said I'll never have sex with them again? If they're good, I might let them stay 'til morning."

Lily shook her head in disgust, got off the sofa and carried Harry in her arms. "I'm taking Harry up for a nap so he can't listen to any of your '_ingenious harebrained_' schemes. Come on Harry, darling, leave your abominable Godfather and his sexist deeds and come with Mummy for a nap. Come on Darling, come on."

Harry - though he could not comprehend the conversation - stuck his tongue out at Sirius behind his Mother's back. "I swear your wife hates me! She's even got your kid turned against me! You need to sort her out, James, keep her on a leash, at least."

James shot his head to the door Lily had exited. "She'll hear you."

"Good."

The messy-haired man chuckled. "She loves you really; you're like the annoying brother she never wanted to her."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better? Because it doesn't."

"Perhaps you take her advice on board, and actually take one of these women out on a date again."

"I'll have to find one I actually like, and believe me James, I have _very_ refined taste."

"What, tall, blonde, Quidditch player Gryffindor's called Marlene McKinnon?" Sirius scowled at him. "Come on Padfoot, you can't think I've forgotten about this."

"I haven't forgiven you," Sirius grumbled. "I can never forgive you for that."

James bowed his head. "I did the right thing. You could have ended up dead as well if we hadn't got out of there."

"But if it was Lily-"

"-_Don't_," James warned, his voice raising. "Don't _ever_ say that again. Don't you _dare_ blame me, don't you _dare_ turn this around, asking what I would do in that situation because I don't fucking know what I'd do, Padfoot. I almost lost my wife _and_ son to Voldemort on Halloween. All you lost was a Hogwarts girlfriend."

"I loved her," Sirius solemnly admitted.

"Yes. You might have done. But you hated her at the same time! You were constantly at each other's throats. You were worse to her than you were - _are_ - to my wife at the moment. You didn't just lose a Hogwarts romance that day, Lily lost her best friend."

"And we lost ours. Remember Pettigrew, James? Because it seems to me like you've forgotten him." James said nothing. "You've done _nothing_ about it - you haven't even gone looking for him!"

"WHAT WOULD I DO, PADFOOT?" James shouted. "Go looking in every sewer, check every street corner in the bins? Because you had forty days ahead of me to do it, and I would have at least thought you'd have a lead on him." It was Sirius' turn not to reply. "Let's just move on now, eh? What's done is done. Pettigrew and Marlene are out of our lives for good now, and we've got to move on."

"I _can't_!"

"We have to," James stated. "I hate Pettigrew for what he did even more than you do, but I've accepted that there's nothing that can be done about it now, just like you have to acknowledge that no amount of grieving or blaming me is going to bring Marlene back. If God had intended you two to be together then she wouldn't have died. There's a special woman out there for you, Padfoot, who's going to make you forget about Marlene. As impossible a thought that is for you now, it's going to happen, and you _have_ to believe me."

Sirius rose to leave. "I have to go now. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Padfoot-"

But in a flash, Sirius had gone, and James was left feeling worse about himself than he had done in a long time.

...

Sunday had proved a stressful day for Remus, more than Sunday was ever expected to be. When God created the Universe, he intended Sunday to be 'The Day of Rest', but to Remus, Sunday proved to him: 'The Day That I Literally Had to Stop Having Sex with my Girlfriend for the Day or I Would Probably Lose My Job.' Merlin knew he didn't want to leave Lydia alone in bed all day, but Merlin also knew, that if Remus didn't finish this report today, he'd have no job to go back to tomorrow. So Remus had to stop procrastinating, and get on with his work.

But when his girlfriend walked into the room with only a towel wrapped round her body, soaking wet, he couldn't help it if he was caught off guard. "I hate Sundays," Lydia sighed. "So much work to be doing."

"Funny," Remus muttered.

She walked over to him. Remus was sat on the floor with paperwork on the coffee table. Since he started his work at seven o'clock, he had since moved positions in the living room/kitchen thrice. And it was a great position for Lydia to sit next to him on the floor and wrap her arms around his neck.

"Come back to bed."

"I can't," Remus said dismissively, "I have to get on with my work."

Lydia kissed Remus' jaw bone, and he tried his hardest to continue his work. "Come on Remus, _please_?"

"No, Lydia."

She tutted and sat back, leaning against the sofa. "We never see each other anymore. I never get to have you to myself."

"Well I'm sorry about that," he grumbled, chewing on the end of his quill. "If you want to see more of me, why don't we just move in together?"

She gasped. Remus - who had only said that as a half-witted joke, as soon as he received Lydia's reaction, work left his mind and turned to the ecstatic girl behind him. "Do you really mean that?"

"No," Remus said and looking at Lydia's face contort into one of hurt, he quickly added, "not in here with me. We'll buy our own house."

"_House_?"

"Or flat-" he corrected. "Or flat..."

Her face turned happy again, and she flung herself at Remus, her towel coming undone in the process. Remus hugged her back, staring up at the ceiling, wondering how the _hell_ he managed to get himself into situations like this. "Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Oh _Remus_!" She did up her towel and jumped up. "I'm going to run down to the shops, and I'm going to buy every paper they have on sale and I'm going to start looking at houses! Remus this is just great!"

True to her word, five minutes later she emerged from the bedroom, fully dressed and ran out the flat and revisited, almost ten minutes later with an armful of newspapers and began looking through them on the kitchen table. Remus watched her with a sigh: _if only she knew what she was getting herself into_.

...

Remus had originally wanted to speak to James about 'The Lydia Incident', but James had gone to the Ministry with Sirius and Harry and only Lily was in. She was pleased that Remus came to see her and confided in him about 'The Lydia Incident' - which she christened it as. So they sat over Lily's kitchen table, Remus relating the events of yesterday morning.

"Do you really think you're ready for this?" Lily asked when she heard the news. "You've only been together_ five _months. James and I didn't move in together until we were dating for three years! Remus, I think you're rushing into things."

"I know," he admitted. "It just... _slipped_ out!"

"What, like you expressing your love for her?" Remus raised his eyebrow. "James told me. Darling, she's going to get mixed signals here. You have to put her straight."

"I can't!" Remus persisted. "I can't, okay, it would break her heart. She's already looking through flats for us to live in - _three_ bedroom flats, Lily, _three_."

Lily shook her head. "I can't say I haven't warned you, but I'm going to give you a piece of valuable information: when you express your love to a girl, and ask her to move in with you all in the space of a week, she's going to begin to think that you want to settle down with her."

"But I don't want that - I _can't_ want that. You know what I am Lily!"

"Haven't you told her?" Remus shook his head. "Oh _Remus_, you fool! Why haven't you told her yet?"

"Because I didn't think we'd last!"

"You're moving in together!" Lily exclaimed, almost laughing at the hilarity. "You have to set her straight, tell her that you're moving too fast otherwise she's going to start planning a future for you both."

"Don't get me wrong, I like Lydia _a lot_, I almost love her I suppose but... If I wasn't a werewolf, perhaps these things would be different."

Lily leaned over the table and entwined her fingers' with her friend's. "I know what you mean, but you either tell her that you don't want to move in with her, that you're moving too fast, or planning for a new place to live isn't going to be the _worst_ thing she's planning. Do you understand?"

Remus drew back. "Lydia wouldn't plan for a family, not without my say so. Would she?"

"I did."

"James must have been overwhelmed when he knew."

"He never did."

"If you asked me then, from what you just said, it was _your_ fault you conceived Harry, not his."

"It's not like we didn't _want_ Harry, Remus, but we were nineteen-years-old, been married for two months and there was a raging war going on we were both fighting in. Harry turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me - to James as well - to the _both _of us and I think Sirius too. It really made James mature, but we were, despite everything, _ready_ to have Harry. James and I knew each other well before we started dating, got married and moved in together and we _loved_ each other, but you've known Lydia around the same length of time that you've been dating, and if you want my opinion, you're moving too fast."

Remus bowed his head. "I know that - but how do I tell Lydia and not break her heart?"

"That's tough. I don't think there is a way to get what you want."

"Then what do I do?"

"You go along with it," Lily advised. "But you stall it as much as you can. You say to every flat she suggests that you don't like it, and if she asks why, you create excuses like: the bedroom's not big enough or the location is wrong. You say you don't want to move into any old flat, you want to move into the perfect one. And then you kiss her, and she'll forget."

"Your advice sounds _way_ too much like something Sirius would suggest - the two of you need to stop spending so much time with each other; it's getting creepy."

Lily smiled. "What can I say? I'm married to a Marauder."

"That's what I'm afraid will happen to Lydia: marry a cold-hearted, blood-thirsty killer."

"You're not a killer, Remus. And Lydia is such a lovely girl I'm sure she wouldn't _care_ what happens to you once a month. She loves you unquestionably, beast or not."

"But what if I do something to her?" He fretted. "What if I kill her?"

"You won't kill her-"

"-I might not mean to do it _intentionally_... but what if my actions result in her death?"

"You're worrying now Remus, go home and talk through things with Lydia."

Remus sighed. "That's probably the best thing to do. Do you want to go out and grab Lunch or have you got other plans?"

"Well, seeing as my husband, son and lodger are out-"

"-Sirius isn't your lodger."

"Well he's here often enough I ought to start charging him rent."

Remus laughed. "Continue."

"Seeing as the boys' are out, I thought a well earned trip to Diagon Alley was needed. I need to get some new robes and potions from the Apothecary. Do you want me to get you anything while I'm there?"

He shook his head. "I'm good, thanks." He got up to leave and put on his jacket that hung over the dining chair and extracted his wand from it. "Have a good afternoon, Lily."

"You too Remus - and good luck with Lydia. _Don't_ back out and be sensitive!"

Remus took her advice on board and apparated away from the Potter's house.

When Remus returned home with all the intentions of setting Lydia straight, he just couldn't go through with it.

She was sat at the table, still in her pyjamas, newspapers spread out over the table with clear, various markings etched onto them. Remus couldn't help but stop and smile as he put his keys down on the work surface to watch her, so intent and lost in her findings that he couldn't help but not love her. How something so mundane as flat searching could make someone so happy Remus did not know, but either way, he was so engaged in wanting and watching her, that he let her continue searching, and did not say another thing about it.

"Hey Lydia, do you remember that flat down Oakleigh Street you were really intent on us buying? Well, it's ours if you want it."


	6. Gravid Secrets

**A.N**. I really want to increase my chapter length - but I just don't know how to do it! Anyway, big THANK YOU to everyone who read/reviewed/favourited/alerted last chapter - you honestly don't know how much this means to me! Eee! Please keep it up I love you so much.**  
**

**Disclaimer: **Am I JK Rowling? Do I own this? Bitch I might be.

**Previously: **Remus has sex with his girlfriend Lydia for the first time after the Potter's New Years Eve Party. A few weeks after this, Remus accidently told Lydia he loved her and that he wants to move in with her, and she promptly starts looking at flats for them. Lily is feeling broody and wants to start a family with James. Sirius gets laid and _finally _gets a job on the Wizenagamont or something and can never forgive James Potter for what he did to Marlene.

**Contact: **satansbowtie**dot**tumblr**dot**com - **replace dot with **.

_Enjoy =)_

* * *

She fumbled with the pregnancy test stick in her hands.

_Not possible_, she thought. She hadn't been expecting herself falling pregnant so - so _early_.

She thought she would be ready for this, but she wasn't. The young lady stared down at the stick that read positive in astonishment. She had been ready for this, she had _wanted_ this, but to actually witness it happening in real life shook her, and she doubted her maternal skills.

When she heard him coming through the front door, she ran out of their bedroom and straight into the bathroom. She called that she would be out in a minute and hastily began looking for a place to hide it. The bin - he would find it there. With her tampons? She tried the box but the long stick just wouldn't fit. What impeccable timing he had, she bitterly thought. If she hid it on herself he might discover it, so frantically looking around the room, her eyes fell on the wicker basket where she kept her cosmetics. He would never look there; all the hair products, skin lotion and body oils confused him to the point he would blank out the moment she told him - when he asked - what shampoo she used. She loved him a hell of a lot, but sometimes he was just crazily idiotic. So she emptied the basket, placed the pregnancy test in the basket and placed everything on top of it. She studied it from every angle to make sure that there was not a chance on _earth_ he could find it, and was relieved beyond belief when it was not visible. She placed the wicker basket back on the shelf in the bathroom and slipped out the door.

...

The day that Remus and Lydia moved into their new flat on Oakleigh Road was the day they probably broke the World Record for the fastest moving in time. All of it was done by magic, so around the house for half an hour at least, the couple were dodging bottles of hairspray and vases and mugs and plates and knives and Merlin knows what else was in the boxes they packed. They watched it all happen in front of their eyes, stood to the side watching their new life begin by the new window that over looked the park.

"What do you think to the new place now?" Remus asked as the last possessions broke out of their boxes and began finding a place to stay.

"I love it," Lydia smiled and wrapped her arms around Remus' waist. "And I love you."

"I love you too," he agreed. "You don't think Amos will get suspicious, now that our home places are the same?"

"He never looks at my file," Lydia said dismissively. "I have all the employee's files under lock and key and I made sure to change them yesterday afternoon for the two of us."

"Have you been looking in my file?" Remus teased.

"Of course not," Lydia said, gazing up at him, "I trust you, you have no secrets."

_Secrets_, Remus repeated in his mind, _secrets_. Do secrets really count when you're protecting someone you love from something dangerous, he wondered. She had no secrets from him, he was sure; Lydia was a very open person; she would exchange secrets with a stranger no less, and she expected the same from him. But how could he tell her and break her heart? They were so happy: he and her, in a new home with a life ahead of them, but she would need to find out eventually, sooner or later, he would break the news to her and she'd leave him because he was a monster or worse, because he hadn't told her sooner. There was no other way around it, in Remus' opinion. There was nothing else he could do.

"We all have secrets," Remus stalled.

"Yes," Lydia agreed. "Yes we all do. Some bigger than others."

As the last of their possessions unpacked themselves Remus and Lydia went to sit down on their sofa. Lydia put her feet up, closing her eyes and inhaling the smell of their new flat. Remus watched her gaily and moved down to sit next to her. He put his arm around her, inviting her to lean against him but no such action took place. She stayed still on the sofa.

"I know how we can really break this place in," Remus suggested seductively.

He began kissing the side of her neck - something that she usually enjoyed - but shoved him back lightly. "I'm honestly not in the mood right now, Remus."

"Come on," he persuaded.

"No," she replied, but was smiling as his lips traced her neck. "Normally I would, but I have a really bad headache at the moment."

"Maybe tonight?" Remus asked.

Lydia shrugged. "Maybe - could you open the window for me, please?"

Remus complied and opened the window. As soon as he did, Lydia breathed in the fresh air. "Perhaps the fresh air will do me some good."

"Mhm..." Remus agreed and went to sit beside her again. "Are you feeling ill again, darling?"

She shook her head. "No, it's only a headache. I'll take some potion after lunch and see if it gets better."

"We've run out," Remus informed.

"_What_?" She repeated, louder than she normally would have reacted.

"I was feeling ill the other night."

"And you didn't think to replace it?"

Remus was about to argue back, but decided not to. Like Remus, Lydia had a time of month, and he knew better than to argue with any girl while it was that period - _literally_. "I'm sorry; I'll go out and get some."

"It's fine," Lydia snapped, getting up. "I'll go and get some myself."

"Lydia - don't be mad at me."

She stopped once she stood up and shook her head. "Sorry, I'm not mad at you. This is supposed to be a happy day for us and I've ruined it by moaning about my headache. You never moan at me when you get stressed at work... I'm sorry; I'm out of order."

"Don't be ridiculous," he responded.

He walked round and embraced his living partner, and she sighed into the crook of his neck. "I've disappointed you."

"You could _never_ disappoint me. I shouldn't have tried to persuade you; no means no, I know that but-"

She cut him off by kissing him. She broke off after a few seconds. "Don't apologise; I'm just not as easy to inveigle into sex as you are." She kissed him on the cheek. "I love you, remember that. Is there anything else from the shops you want me to get you?"

"I'm fine," he smiled, and kissed her nose. "I love you too - and hurry back; I don't want to miss another minute with you."

She slipped away from the flat, blowing him a kiss as she escaped out the door and Remus fell into the sofa with a big, broad, cheesy grin on his face. He was a lot happier about this than he thought he would be. Telling Lydia about his Lycanthropy slipped into the back of his mind, and he concentrated on the present: he and Lydia, in their new home together, hopefully, forever.

...

At the Potter's home, it was a quiet, regular day. Lily and James were playing with Harry in the living room, and they did that a frequent amount of time because, without Harry, they had a lot of time on their hands; neither of them worked and they had no other business to take care of. Before the war, they were out on Order of the Phoenix missions nearly every day but now, their life was a tad mundane, and to amuse themselves, when Harry was napping, they amused themselves with a new project: adding an extra Potter to the family.

But one evening, while Harry was asleep, James was ready to continue with the project but Lily, however, was not.

"So, Harry's asleep," James informed, sitting next to his wife on the sofa.

"Did he get off alright?"

Lily was engaged in one of her Austen books: Sanditon. She was curled up on the sofa, resting the book on the arm, completely disinterested in what James was referring to. "Yes, he did. Lily, are you alright? You know what happens when Harry goes to bed?"

"Of course," Lily replied. "But can't we just have a break today? I want to finish my book."

James pursed his lips together. "Don't you _want_ another baby? It was your idea in the first place."

"Of course I want another baby, James," Lily answered. "And I _very_ much enjoy what we do to _make_ a baby, but can't we please just leave it for today?"

"I don't have much say in it," James reluctantly sighed. "I guess it's _you_ who's going to be giving birth to our daughter, not me."

Lily laughed. "What makes you so certain it's a girl?"

"Well, we've already had a _boy_."

"Yes, and we can have _another_ boy."

"But I want a girl."

"You can't _choose_ the sex of our baby - _or_ make a large bet with Sirius over it, either. Because he lost last time, and was grumpy about it for days."

"I was right last time, and I have a feeling that our next baby is going to be a girl."

"Don't get your hopes up."

"Potter's _always_ have daughters second, apart from my Dad who didn't want one after me."

"Mhm, I think you put him off the idea of having anymore children."

James gasped, and he wrapped his arms around his wife, knocking the book off the chair and began passionately kissing him. Lily tried pushing him off, but she laughed at her feeble attempts to do so. "Is your book more fun than me? Does the book give you more _pleasure_ than me?"

"No!" Lily exclaimed and this time, pushed James off successfully. "It's giving me ideas for our baby's names, though. I think we should start thinking of some. There are some names in the book Sanditon - and other Austen novels - I like."

"Lily, you said we drew a line at naming our children after fictional characters. Pets are fine. But fictional characters always have to have an ending."

"Just hear me out, okay?" James agreed to do so. "Well, there's _Thomas_ for a boy-"

"Thomas is a nice name. But it's a daughter we're going to have - tell me some girl's names."

"Diana, Charlotte and Clara."

"Diana, Charlotte and Clara," James mused. "Charlotte, not so much. I like Clara though - Diana reminds me too much of the ugly woman the ugly Prince married in the Muggle Monarchy."

"Princess Diana is not ugly," Lily persisted. "And you know _nothing_ about the Muggle Monarchy."

"I know that the son always inherits the throne and there's a Queen on it at the moment and she probably has a bowel problem what with how long she's been on it for."

"_James_," Lily scolded. "Moving on, you like Clara then, anything else?"

James shrugged. "I don't know - why are you so keen, all of a sudden, to name our future child?"

"Is it wrong to be keen?"

"No, not at all. We're much better prepared than we were with Harry, aren't we? Sirius told me he expects us to call our next child _Sirius. _Don't worry! I haven't told him we're trying to have a baby."

Lily closed her book. "Please keep it like that. Sirius is our _best_ friend, and I love him to pieces, but you know what he's like: he'll be asking us questions and tips and techniques like last time and we weren't even trying for a baby then."

"I know what you mean," James agreed and he got up. "I'm going to visit Sirius now. I love you and I'll see you when I get back."

With a kiss on the lips from his wife, James left the house and apparated to the corridor outside Sirius' flat. Sirius hated it when visitors popped into his house unannounced, but had no problem doing it to James or Remus. Sirius had a reason to not like it - even though it wasn't a good one, the amount of times James had apparated inside Sirius' flat and caught him naked and having sex on his sofa he had lost count. Sirius never got that satisfaction with James, as he and Lily (normally) kept it to the bedroom and also _never_ with Remus and Lydia (so far). So James stuck to their agreement and tapped on Sirius' door, and a few minutes later, the door was answered.

"Prongs, surprise surprise, dumped Lily and decided to move in with me, because I've got _plenty_ of room for you in here. Come on in and I'll get you a beer - oh, but I'm having dinner with Remus and Lydia in ten minutes so you're going to have to be quick."

James entered Sirius' apartment and sat in the armchair. Sirius tossed him a beer and lay flat on his sofa. "I'm not here to move in with you because I broke up with Lily, but I _do_ need to talk to you about her."

Sirius sat up straight. "What's up, Prongs? Trouble in paradise city?"

"We're trying for a baby."

Despite his promise to Lily, he had to confide in this to _someone_. Sirius was his best friend, and while he could talk to Remus about this, he was very close friends with Lily, and she was the one he confided in, but ever since Lydia came into their lives, it would be Lydia who Lily confided in, not Remus. James trusted Sirius with his life, and even though this secret was not at all _life threatening_, we was sure that it could be marriage threatening if word got out that James had told and everyone knew they were trying for a baby.

"Well congratulations! But what's the problem?"

"She wouldn't have sex with me today."

"_That's_ the problem? Prongs, she doesn't _have_ to have sex with you. Can't you just take a break for once in awhile?"

"I think there's something wrong," James confessed. "With Harry, Lily got pregnant within two months of us being married and yes, our sex was frequent and it still is this time round, but is there something _wrong_ with me? Should I go to Mungo's?"

"Mate, I have sex almost every other night and I have _never_ knocked up a woman."

"Because you use contraceptives, Lily and I don't. We did while we were married at first and not planning on having a baby... do you think that's it? Do you think Lily has to be taking the Potions to get pregnant?"

Sirius laughed. "Lily must have just skipped one the night you two had sex - and you're worrying too much; there's _nothing_ wrong with you; you can't expect her to get pregnant again so quickly! You have to give it some time."

"But Sirius, I want a baby _so_ badly! Our life is so... so _boring _without anything new."

"So you're having a baby because the two of you are bored? Have sex more often, go on holiday. You don't _need_ a baby to amuse yourselves; I'm single, free and happy and I don't have a baby."

"You have a job," James reminded. "You have something to do with your life."

Sirius loved his new job. He worked as a magic equivalent of a Lawyer but was in training at the moment. He had no proper cases until the next month, but was preparing for it every day while at work. After studying the case, he was one hundred percent certain he would win and justice would be done. He was greatly anticipating it.

"Then get a job," Sirius suggested.

"But we're going to have a _baby_! I can't start a job then expect Lily to go through the pregnancy all on her own. What does that make me look like?"

"Every other husband?"

"But I'm not like every other husband; most husbands didn't bully their wife's best friend while at school. Most husbands can't transfigure into stags whenever they want. Most husbands talk about this with their wives, not their best friend's."

"But you're not like every other husband: you fought and defeated the Dark Lord _thrice _and then went on to protect your wife and one-year-old son against him single-handedly _and_ without a wand. You're better than most husbands, Prongs, and you should talk about this with Lily."

"You're probably right. Who do _you_ talk about _your_ problems with?"

"Problems?" Sirius reiterated. "I don't have problems."

"You must have issues - is there a girl you like but she doesn't like you back or won't have sex with you? Need any _tips_?" Teased his best friend.

Sirius chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "Sod off Prongs - I don't need any sex tips from _you_. And actually, there is something I've been meaning to discuss with you: my family."

"Your _family_," James echoed. "You mean the family that you ran away from at the age of fifteen and became a lodger in my home and never really stopped?"

"Yep, _that_ family. My Mother, mostly."

"What about her?"

Sirius exhaled. "Do you think I should go and see her?"

"Why the _hell_ would you want to go and see her? She made your life hell."

"I know," Sirius admitted. "But she's my Mother, and you've lost yours. Do you think I should try talking to her again while I still can, or is that just completely a lost cause and I shouldn't even attempt to build bridges with her?"

"I don't know. I know that if I got the chance to see my Mother again, I'd cease opportunity as soon as possible."

"I know, that's what made me think. She lost Father and Regulus within the space of six months. She must be lonely in that old, big house with no one but Kreacher - unless she's killed him - to keep her company. I've grown up; it's been eight years since I've seen her last. Do you think I should give it a go?"

"Personally, no; she's only going to fuck with your mind."

"Thanks, Prongs," Sirius replied sarcastically.

"You obviously want to, so go ahead." Sirius didn't respond and began chewing on the skin of his thumb like he did when he was younger when he was nervous. "You only get one Mother, and you were lumped with the worst one of all. Even though it's probably a bad idea, I suppose going to visit her to see if she's still alive wouldn't be too bad."

"I'm just scared what she's going to say."

"I know you are."

"What if she blames me for Regulus' death?"

"Why in Merlin's name would she do that?"

"Because I wasn't there for him when I should have been?" Sirius suggested. "Because I hated him and told him, an incessant amount of times, that he would be better off dead? That I never once, did anything to stop him joining the Death Eaters, I only warned him not to. If I cared about him, I would have done something more."

"Of course you cared about him," James soothed. "And you can't let her tell you otherwise."

"James my brother is dead. All because of me, and we never even made up because I was too much of an ignorant, selfish, _git_."

"No you were not. Your brother became a bad person, and despite of everything that happened between you two, deep down, Regulus knew that you loved him; you're a big brother; that sort of love doesn't just fade over night."

"It wasn't over night, though. We were always arguing and falling out since he started Hogwarts. What if he allowed himself to be killed?"

"Don't say that; you're putting words into your mouth. You know that's not true."

"Yeah," Sirius admitted. "You're probably right."

"I'm always right," James said, "I'll leave you to go and see Remus and Lydia now. Give Lydia my love, won't you?"

"Moony won't be too chuffed about that, but sure."

...

While James was at Sirius', Lily received a visitor of her own. It was Lydia, no less, stood outside her house with soaking wet hair and drenched clothes. She was freezing, the poor girl, and the instant Lily set eyes on her, she pulled her into the house, stripped her of her coat and jumper and ushered her into the living room, where she promptly put the kettle on and ignited the fire.

"Lydia, what's happened to you?" Lily whispered, concerned. "What are you doing out in the rain?"

"I went for a walk," Lydia explained.

"In the _rain_?"

"I had to clear my head."

"In the _rain_? You'll catch a cold. Has something happened between you and Remus?" She burst into tears when Lily suggested that, and instantly, she pulled the brunette into a hug. "Oh dear, oh sweetie, what's happened? Has something happened with Remus - have the two of you broken up?"

"N - No!" Lydia sobbed. "No - Remus and I are still together."

"Then what?" Lily asked, pulling away. "You've just moved in together today! Has something gone wrong with the flat?"

She shook her head and wiped her eyes. "No. No it's nothing like that. I'm being silly. I don't know why I'm reacting like this. It should be a _good_ thing... I should be _happy_ at the moment but Lily - oh _Lily_! I've just moved in with Remus - I should be with him, not sobbing on your sofa like an idiot! I should be with him - I need to be with him."

Lydia made haste to get up, but Lily pulled her back. "No - no you're staying here and telling me what's wrong!" Lydia knew Lily well enough that she wouldn't give up, so with a hefty sniff, Lydia returned to her place on the sofa. "Hold on, tell me in a minute; I'm going to go and fetch the coffees. Don't move!" Lydia complied and did not move, and one minute later, Lily returned with two mugs of steaming hot coffee. "Alright then, are you going to tell me what this is all about?"

Lydia sipped her coffee through pursed lips. "I'm sorry. I can't tell you."

"What's happened?" Lily pressured.

"I'm being silly," Lydia repeated. "Don't tell Remus I came here, in this state, crying."

"Does he know where you've gone?" Lydia shook her head. "Oh _Merlin_, he's going to be worried out of his mind! You could be anywhere! I'll have to floo him-"

"-No!" Lydia exclaimed when Lily began to go over to the fireplace. Lily eyed her sceptically. "No, he knows where I am," she lied.

Lily was cautious to believe her. "So what's got you all upset?"

"I'm not upset," she lied again. "I wasn't crying because I was sad; I was crying because I'm happy, see?" Lydia produced a wide, faux smile. "Happy, happy me! It's probably just emotions - hormones, you know... getting to that time of month..."

Lily didn't believe her. How could she? The girl had tears in her eyes and was hysterical. Lily's initial thought was that she had just discovered Remus' furry little problem, but that wouldn't be it. Lily was curious as to what _was_ actually wrong with her friend's girlfriend, but she didn't press on. Much.

"If I tell you something that I haven't even told James yet, will you tell me what's troubling you?"

Lily half-expected Lydia to deny it, but she nodded. "Okay."

"I'm pregnant."

...

Sirius arrived at Remus', and when he apparated into his living room with a fresh bottle of Elf Wine, he found Remus frantically pacing up and down his living room, biting his fingers and looking deeply concerned. Sirius had not yet seen Remus and Lydia's flat properly, and it looked very nice: wide fireplace on the back wall with a fancy mantelpiece, three-seated sofa and matching arm chair with a coffee table in the centre. Kitchen in the corner with table and chairs by the window and corridor between the two which lead into the bathroom and bedrooms. It was a very nice place - a vast improvement on Remus' old flat, and perhaps the men might have enjoyed it more if, when the first time Sirius saw it, his friend wasn't looking like there was a big concern on his mind.

"Remus, what's happened?"

Remus was startled by Sirius' presence, and not at all pleased about it. "I thought you were Lydia."

"Why would I be Lydia, where is she?"

"She went out for a walk half an hour ago to clear her head and she hasn't returned since."

"_What_? Where would she have gone?"

Exasperated, Remus threw his hands up. "I just don't know! I don't know where she's gone! I never know what to do with her, it's like she's a rebellious _teenager_ who's always off the rails. She's wacky - she's _crazy_! She's-"

"-Nineteen?" Remus said nothing. "Come on Moony, she's probably just been caught up with a load of old mates from Hogwarts. She's probably in a bar as we speak laughing about you worrying about her with her friends."

"That's it!" Remus realized. "That's all it is! I'm worrying about nothing! Worrying... About... Nothing..."

"_But_?"

"We had a bit of a fall out."

Sirius felt like he was an Agony Aunt today; both James and Remus coming to him about relationship problems. "Sit down," Sirius commanded, indicating to the sofa. "And I'll pour us both out a glass of wine and we can talk about this." Padfoot summoned two glasses and poured the red liquid out into it. Remus took an eager gulp out of his and placed it back down with a sigh of admiration. "Come on then, what's wrong? What did you have a bit of a fall out about?"

"She wouldn't have sex with me."

Sirius' glass froze to his lips, he lowered it and stated: "You and James have both had the same problem today."

"It's like the girl's are forming a convoluted plan to not get either of us sex. What's happened with James?"

Sirius began to tell him, but stopped himself mid-sentence. "Lily just wasn't feeling it today. What was Lydia's reason?"

"She has a headache."

"On the day of you two moving? _Convenient_. She didn't even want to Christen the house with you?" Remus shook his head. "_Damn_ - but there's still plenty of time, I suppose; there's always tonight! I'll leave when she comes back-"

"-_If_ she comes back," Remus muttered. "I'm going to her brother, see if she's not there. Will you stay here in case she comes back, please?"

Sirius didn't complain; empty house, bottle of wine all to himself and fridge stocked of free food and alcohol that wasn't his. What could be better?

...

Lily had been so surprised when she learned the news - she hadn't even expected it. Sure, she wanted a baby a lot, but now just didn't seem like the right time. She couldn't even get her head round it; she'd gotten pregnant again so quickly! How could this be? She didn't want to tell James so soon; she wanted to be sure, so while James was out, she went to the Pharmacy near her house and brought another pregnancy test. She was going to try it again but Lydia had arrived, and the young girl's problems were more important than her's at the moment. When she told Lydia, she looked just as shocked as Lily felt.

"Oh - my - you're _pregnant_?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I think so. No, I definitely am."

"That's - that's such good news! Congratulations! Why doesn't James know though? This is such good news!"

Lily shrugged. "I want to be certain."

"Certain?" Lydia repeated. "Well which one was it, the minus or the minus with the line through it?"

"'The minus with the plus through it'," Lily smiled. "It's called a plus."

"Who cares - you're having a baby!" Lydia pulled Lily into the hug she should have received when she confessed she was pregnant again the first time. "When are you going to take the test again?"

"Soon."

"Soon?" Lydia echoed. She got off the sofa and pulled Lily up. "You're going into that bathroom right _now_, and you're peeing on that stick and you're going to find out if you're pregnant or not!"

Lily laughed and, after being pushed out the room, at the bottom of the stairs turned to Lydia. "Remus is so lucky he has someone as wonderful as you."

"I know," Lydia agreed. "But I'm lucky to have him and James is lucky to have you. Now go on - we need to know if you're expecting!" The two women rushed up the stairs and Lily went into the bathroom while Lydia waited outside.

Lydia waited patiently for Lily, but found herself stood, unintentionally, in an impatient position: leant against the wall being propped up by her foot. Lily arrived a few minutes later, shaking and nervous and excited with a long, white, pregnancy stick in between her fingers. Lydia removed herself from her position and edged towards Lily, staring at the stick which was still configuring. The two women walked downstairs, Lily staring into the stick and not looking at all where she was going. Lydia lead Lily through the house and into the living room. They took their original seats and Lily kept hold of the pregnancy test, her reaction to it was plain and simple.

"There we go," Lily sighed, waving the stick at Lydia. "There's your answer."

The test - much to Lily's dismay, was negative.

...

Lydia arrived home to her new flat to find only Sirius sat on their new sofa, nursing a glass of deep red wine Lydia knew too well to be Elf Wine. When she arrived home, she eyed Sirius suspiciously who either did not know Lydia had entered the flat or just chose to ignore her.

"Where's Remus?" Lydia asked.

She moved across the room and stood over Sirius. "Out looking for you. Where have you been?"

"I went to Lily's," Lydia replied.

"Oh, I've just seen James. How is she?"

Lydia hesitated. "Well. How's James?"

"Fine."

An awkward silence passed between the two of them. Sirius and Lydia had never been alone together and they had little to say. Lydia began swaying as she stood, looking around the room and clicking her tongue. Sirius looked up at her and grinned. "Well, this is awkward, isn't it?"

"Very."

He laughed and put down his glass. "Don't go anywhere little Lydia; I need to use your bathroom - where is it?"

"Straight down the hall and on your right."

"Cheers."

He went as instructed. He did not need to use the bathroom, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to spend any more time with Lydia without it being unnerving. He located the bathroom and locked the door behind him. It was a large bathroom with the toilet on the opposite wall, bath to the left and sink to the right. There were cupboards and shelves on the walls that it seemed only Lydia used. Either that, or Remus had started to use coconut body oils and skin lotions. He looked through some of them on the shelf, nothing he could understand what they were used for and moved onto inspecting the cupboards.

They were split half and half, on the left were Lydia's items and on the right, Remus'. Lydia had a lot more stuff that Remus - shelves and _shelves_ full, while the werewolf had only shaving foam, razor, toothbrush, tablets, condoms and miscellaneous items. He shut the cupboard door and looked around the room absent-mindly, knocking into one of the ledges and knocking a wicker basket flying.

"_Shit_," Sirius whispered.

He dropped to his knees to make sure none of the contents had smashed or leaked on the floor and none of them that. He began putting the small tubs of body lotion and lip balms back into the little wicker basket when his eyes fell on something that was _purposely_ meant to be hidden.

A pregnancy test.

A _positive_ pregnancy test.

He wasn't sure if he was happy for Lydia and Remus or... _shocked_. Of course he was happy for them; they were going to have a baby. James and Lily were trying for one (unsuccessfully) while the new and young were already expecting one. But it made Sirius wonder why Lydia hadn't told Remus yet. It was clear Remus didn't know; he had genuinely thought Lydia's excuse for not having sex was a headache. Sirius thought, at the time it was a pretty bad excuse and that Lydia might be hiding something, but never in his wildest dreams did he expect her to be pregnant!

So Sirius put the wicker basket back on the side and left the bathroom, tapping the stick against the palm of his hand. Then he saw Lydia stood by the roaring fireplace, looking guilty and concerned and he looked at the pregnancy stick in his hand. _Why hadn't she told Remus_? Was she not going to tell him? Was she hoping it was a false test? Was she going to have an abortion? She was putting Remus through hell. _Well, two can play at that game_, he thought and put the stick in his pocket.

"Do you want a drink, Lydia?" Sirius suggested. "A glass of finest Elf Wine?"

Lydia held up her hand. "I'm good, thanks."

"Can't I tempt you?" Sirius persuaded and picked up the bottle and poured it into Remus' old and empty glass. He held it out for her. "Go on, take it." She did take it. "Drink it."

She rose it to her lips. She looked scared at the thought of drinking it. She pressed the glass to her lips. Before the drink was going to reach her lips, Sirius would have stopped her; he knew what alcohol did to pregnant women, and perhaps offering her a glass of Elf Wine was taking his scheming a little bit too far, but she didn't drink it.

"Is this _Elf Wine_?"

"You know it is; I said."

She hastily put the glass down. "I don't want any."

"How come? Don't you like it?"

Another thought raced through his mind. Could he guilt Lydia into this whole pregnancy fiasco? Then a better one came into mind: he could scare her. He would take the pregnancy stick home with him and keep her on the lurch about the whole thing. A smile crept onto his lips. He was very good.

"I - I don't want it."

"Fine, more for me and Remus."

He sat back down on the sofa but Lydia stayed stood. Sirius realized that she did look frightened - petrified almost, and he was almost certain it was about the baby. She hadn't told Remus and it was likely she hadn't told anyone, so Sirius assumed she would need someone to talk to this about.

"Is everything alright, Lydia?" Sirius asked, genuinely concerned. "You seem on edge."

"I'm fine," Lydia responded.

Sirius sighed. "I know, Lydia."

"Know what?" He pulled out the pregnancy test from his pocket, and she jumped at the sight, as if she was as shocked to see the stick as he was. "It's not mine," was her foolish, immediate reaction.

Sirius barked with laughter. "Well it's not Remus'! Come on Lydia, don't lie to me. Tell me what's happened."

"I don't-" She stopped relenting, and sat beside Sirius on the sofa. "I'm pregnant."

"I realised."

"Five weeks pregnant. I went to the hospital today. I haven't been able to tell Remus yet; I don't know what he'll say."

"Doesn't he _want _children?" Lydia shrugged. "Because I know Remus better than most people - better than you, probably, and I know what he's like when he's around Harry, and I know he'd want your child more than anything else in the world. Remus will be the best Father he can to your baby, but he won't be able to unless you tell him! You _are_ planning on telling him, aren't you?"

She nodded. "I am, yes, but I can't think of the right time to tell him."

At that point, Remus blessed them with his sudden appearance, and Sirius turned to Lydia: "No time like the presence. I found your girl Moony; she was with Lily the whole time." He kissed her on the cheek and whispered: "Good luck."

"Are you going?" Remus asked surprised.

"Yeah, sorry I have an - an engagement. I'll see you two love birds later."

With a crack he was gone, and as soon as he was, Remus glared at Lydia who was getting off the sofa. "Where the _hell_ have you been? Are you alright? I was worried. Why didn't you floo me?"

"Lost track of time, I'm sorry."

Remus sighed, and pulled Lydia into a hug. She wrapped her arms around his neck, closing her eyes. She felt bad for running off like she did, but she had to tell him. So she pulled back and began her revelation.

"Remus, I lied to you. I wasn't just at Lily's. I was at the Hospital."

"The _Hospital_?" Remus repeated with wide eyes. "Are you ill? Are you hurt?"

She shook her head. "I'm fine - _we're_ fine."

"_We_?" Remus repeated in shock.

"We," Lydia confirmed, and her hand found her stomach, resting on it. "Remus, I'm pregnant. You're going to be a Father."

* * *

**o_O**

Who saw that coming? Tell me in the reviews if you thought so and who you originally thought! Want to see Remus' reaction, give me a quick review it will take a matter of seconds and I will love you so, so, so, so much!

**Maraudette98: **omg I love that shipname!  
**readingnerd18: **ooh a new reviewer - hi!  
**CuriousGuest: **you're just so damn awesome you deserve a shout out - hai.

_**Reviews are finding out that on the D of E trip, some girl + boy were put in detention because he was caught fingering her in the bushes, right by the pig enclosure.  
Ironic much?**_


	7. The Goodbye Look

**Disclaimer: **Am I JK Rowling? Do I own this? Bitch I might be.

**Previously: **James and Lily try for a baby, and just when Lily thinks she's having a baby, the test turns out to be positive. Lydia herself finds out she is pregnant and gets rumbled by Sirius.

**Contact: **satansbowtie**dot**tumblr**dot**com - **replace dot with **.

_Enjoy =)_

* * *

Upon the news of Lydia's pregnancy, before hand, Remus didn't know how he would react to it. When the day finally came around that Lydia confessed to Remus that she was pregnant with their child, his reaction was not faked. He was overwhelmed with a future paternal feeling, that anything else that occupied his mind, any worries or concerns just vanished. Poof. Gone. They weren't there. The only feelings present were ones of joyous celebrations. If he ever had doubts about Lydia's pregnancy for the first few weeks, he would merely have to close his eyes and go to his sanction of blissful festivities and all the worries would vanish. Poof. Gone. Remus could not wait to be a Father.

Until the birth, there was still a lot Remus was animated for. There was decorating the Nursery and buying the crib and baby clothes. The ante-natal classes Lydia's sister-in-law was insisting she attended and the scans. The scans were what Remus was looking forward to most. He had missed the first one (Full Moon) which he had been devastated about, but he was grateful that he could attend the twenty-week-one, which is where they were on May 4th, anxiously waiting.

They were sat in a Muggle hospital, restlessly waiting to see their semi-developed baby properly. Lydia didn't wish to know whether they were having a boy or a girl, but Remus wanted to know. It wasn't his decision, he was told by Lydia's brother who had to wait to find out the sex of his two daughters because his wife didn't want to know, it was the Mother's choice, and no amount of pleading on Remus' behalf could convince Lydia otherwise.

But he tried, right up until last minute when they were waiting for their appointment with the Nurse to see the baby on the screen.

"Can't I just know and not you?" Remus begged.

"No. Because knowing you, you'll tell everybody and it will get back to me. I want it to be a _surprise_ Remus!"

"I think _having_ the baby is enough of a surprise, don't you?"

She nudged him playfully. "It takes two to make a baby."

"You're right," Remus admitted. "Which is why, at least _I_ should have the right to know whether or not my future kin is female or male. Come on Lydia, _please_?"

She shook her head. "Nope."

"Please?"

"Nope."

"_Please_?"

"No!"

He crossed his arms. "Fine then."

A few minutes later they were called in by the Nurse to have their scan. They were lead down a uniform corridor into a room on the left where a woman, bed and a contraption were centred in the middle. Lydia was instructed to lie down on the bed and pull up her shirt, and she did as commanded. Remus took a seat next to her on one of the chairs by the bed and held her hand as the Nurse spread a chilly, transparent liquid on her stomach.

"This is going to be cold, Lydia," she warned seconds before she spread it.

Lydia said nothing and rolled her head to Remus. Lydia - who had no idea how Muggle contraptions worked, looked to Remus for help.

"We're going to see our baby in a minute on the screen," Remus whispered.

"How does that work?" She asked back.

Remus shrugged. "It's too complicated for me."

"Something Remus Lupin doesn't know? Must be a first."

Instead of retaliating, Remus pressed the Mother of his child's hand against his mouth in a loving gesture. Both of them turned their interest to the screen where they would soon see their future child in front of their eyes, and they could barely contain their exhilaration.

"Here you go: here's your baby."

It was an animated black and white video on a screen and, for all Lydia and Remus knew, it might not even be their baby - just one that had been saved previously, but that thought never crossed their minds. Lydia gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. Remus, however, was silent and stared at the screen with adoring eyes.

"This is your baby's heartbeat," the Nurse informed, pointing to a part of the screen. "This is its face and hands and toes and the spinal column. From here... it looks... perfectly healthy."

Lydia sounded relieved and Remus, however, was dubious. "Nothing's wrong with it?"

"Nothing at all," the Midwife smiled.

"No... Abnormalities?"

"None at all."

"He's a worrier," Lydia elaborated and squeezed Remus' hand. "It's fine. Our baby's healthy!"

It still didn't calm Remus' nerves. How could he not be worried, though? He was a werewolf, it could be hereditary. What if something was wrong with the baby? What if he had cursed the unborn child? What it something happened to Lydia when she was giving birth?

He should have told her by now, he knew that, but could never find the time to tell her. There was no way he could tell her now; she'd leave him for sure. But he had to. He couldn't keep the secret forever, and the longer he did, the angrier she would be by it. But the hormones... He remembered what Lily was like when James didn't get the milk one time. She went ballistic. Lydia's reaction to his Lycanthropy would be Lily's reaction times one hundred. He was terrified of losing Lydia and even more terrified of losing the baby.

"Would you like to know the sex?"

"No," replied Lydia. "I don't want to know, and I don't want _him_ to know, either."

"I'll agree with that," the Midwife laughed. "If the Mum doesn't know then the Dad doesn't know.

Remus said nothing, and just smiled at Lydia when she looked at him as the Midwife educated them what would happen during the pregnancy and birth. For now, he could put his silence down due to nerves, but in two weeks time he couldn't lie like that and Lydia would know something was wrong. She'd be so heartbroken...

...

Sirius had been planning this day for weeks. What he would say. What he would wear. What he would do and how he would react. Anyone would think he was getting married and not going home to visit his Mother. _Home_, what a sad excuse Number Twelve Grimmauld Place turned out to be. It wasn't home for Sirius when he was growing up: it was _hell_.

Never the less, he had to go back. He couldn't put it off. He hated his Mother. He hated Grimmauld Place, but there was a part of him just _urging_ Sirius to return. Was it because it was the place his Father had died in? Probably not. Was it the last place connected with his baby brother? Again, probably not. Was it the fact that he had called it home for fifteen years? Sirius was not sure why he wanted to return - not sure at _all_ actually; he made a vow to himself that he would never return. So why was he going back?

Grimmauld Place still looked the same. It was one of many terraced houses in a row in London and was a forty-five minute journey by foot from Sirius' current home. He did not walk there, he apparated to the street he grew up on and stared up at the house. Number Twelve was lodged in between houses Eleven and Thirteen and never, in anyone's wildest dreams could have imagined the largest house of all was just behind a drain pipe.

He looked around the dimly lit street and got out his wand. It was evening time, nearly getting dark and Sirius was hopeful nobody could see him splitting two houses apart. Luckily, no one did, and when the houses split, Sirius walked up the old, familiar steps and opened the door.

The house smelled damp and rotting, like his Mother hadn't bothered to order Kreacher to ever clean the place. The gas lamps on the wall were lit and the wallpaper was peeling off around the ceiling, corners and floor. It was exactly the same as he had left it.

He walked down the dimly lit, narrow corridor to the living room where he expected to find all his family still there and not dead. He expected to find his Father smoking a pipe, wearing his tartan dressing gown and maroon slippers, but the armchair by the fire was vacant, so there was no demeaning man occupying it. There was no small boy playing with his marbles on the ornate rug by the window. That spot had been taken by an ancient table and ugly, decaying vegetation. The only thing that was the same, however, was the chubby woman wearing incessant amounts of pearl necklaces and beaded bracelets and hideous, dangly earrings.

Sirius opened the door wider and the woman who was curled up on the sofa, seemingly upset, jumped with fright. She stumbled off the sofa and faced Sirius, a look of bewilderment on her face.

"Regulus?"

"No Ma, it's me: Sirius."

"Sirius?" He nodded. "SIRIUS?"

She rushed to Sirius and he expected her to hug him, to forget their past and welcome him back with open arms. Wrong. Sirius was _so_ wrong. He had obviously forgotten how cruel his Mother was, as when she got over to him, she slapped him hard in the face, purposely making sure her nails etched into Sirius' facade.

"HOW DARE YOU RETURN HERE AFTER EIGHT YEARS? WHAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO STEP FOOT INTO MY HOME? YOU SAUNTER IN HERE EXPECTING EVERYTHING TO BE LIKE IT WAS!"

Sirius stumbled backwards after the hit and, clutching his right eye, stared up at his Mother with pure unadulterated loathing. His Mother stared at him, almost surprised with what she'd done, and she stretched out a hand and touched Sirius' right cheek. He flinched, but she persisted, stroking him, _soothing_ him.

"You look so much like him. Your Papa."

Sirius barked a laugh and stepped away. "I am nothing like that man."

"No, you're not," Ma agreed. "You're a much nicer man than he. Sit, please."

She indicated towards the Living Room, and he was surprised by her gesture, but complied, walking back into the living room. He was careful not to sit in his Papa's old position, so sat on the other end of the sofa from where his Ma was previously sat. She sat down delicately, and given her composition, it seemed unlikely she could possess such quality, yet she managed.

"How have you been?"

"Fine."

"I gathered you heard about Regulus."

"Yes," he said bitterly, "yes I did."

"And your Papa?" Sirius nodded again. "You have to understand how hard that was for me, Sirius; I lost the two men I loved most in my life within the space of six months. Grief like that can't just go away. One can only blame me for trying to reconcile with the third I love."

"Got yourself a new beau?" Sirius spat.

"No," Ma shook her head. "_You_."

Sirius snorted. "Like you said, you had eight years to do that. I seem to recall that _I_ was the one who returned after eight years. After being burned off the family tapestry. Oh yes, Ma, Andromeda told me."

"Andromeda is a whore." She said it so easily, like she passed judgment like that daily (and, she probably did). "She married beneath her, had _sex_ before marriage - committed a sin! Committed fornication!"

He sniggered. "You don't think darling Bellatrix and Rodolphous waited until they were wed, did you? Or sweet Cissy and Lucius? Regulus - _me_?"

"I know just what _you _were up to you ungrateful SWINE! The posters on your wall - _Muggle women in bikinis_? On _motorbikes_?"

"What can I say? Motorbikes are cool."

"You still have yours then?" Ma hissed.

"Sold it," Sirius sighed. "Got Harry for a while, didn't I? Realised I didn't miss the bike as much as I thought I did so I dumped it on some teens for a couple of hundred quid. See, that's what I do when I no longer need stuff: I get out while I still can."

"SO WHY DID YOU RETURN?" Ma screeched, getting off the sofa. "SO WHY DID YOU COME BACK, GROVELLING ON YOUR HANDS AND KNEES, BEGGING TO BE TAKEN BACK?"

"I DON'T REMEMBER THAT. I REMEMBER YOU SLAPPING ME AND THEN TELLING ME TO SIT DOWN! I DON'T REMEMBER FALLING ON MY KNEES BEGGING FOR FORGIVENESS - BEGGING FOR YOU."

"I don't need this," Walburga stressed. "Get out of my home."

"I came here to make amends," Sirius remarked. "Now I see that is a waste of time."

"You don't care about anyone but yourself."

"On the contrary, I care about a lot of people: I care about my Godson and I care about James and Lily. Remus I care for and even his girlfriend Lydia and I'll care for their unborn child. I care about bringing justice to the world and I care about what my Ma thinks of me. So go on, tell me to get out. Call me a spiteful swine once more and I'll leave. I'll be out of your life and you'll have no one left for you. No one left to care about you, no one left to love you."

Ma glared at Sirius through her narrow slit eyes. "Get out of my home."

"You're going to regret this," Sirius snarled. "You're going to regret getting rid of me on your deathbed with no one beside you. I'm pleased Papa's gone with the dust; he'd be so ashamed to see you like this." Walburga was astounded, and Sirius barged past her as he prepared to leave the house. "I'll show myself out."

He headed straight for the door, but slowed down when he heard his Ma's footsteps behind him. "Sirius - wait."

He turned around. He'd had enough with her vindictive bullying and lies for one day. "Go fuck yourself."

"Don't talk to your Ma like that," she scolded weakly. "Please. You're still my son. I still love you."

His heart bled for her, almost. Half of him wanted to turn around and embrace her, but the other wanted to storm out the door. The stronger side won, and he opened the latch of the door, and with a final look to his Ma, slammed the door shut in her face. In his family. In his old life. Dead to him.

...

While James was waiting for his two best friends to meet him by the fountain in the Plaza in the Ministry of Magic, he was confronted by another man. It was a man he knew all too well. The man was bizarre looking, and his face was not a face you would ever forget. He was a stout man with a horrific face. He had a deep scar from his forehead, through his left eye and down to the bottom of his nose and also possessed a glass eye. His shoulder length blonde hair was thin and greying, and quite like you would expect him to be, judging by appearance, he was a frightful man.

"Alastor Moody, sir," James greeted. "How - how have you been?"

"I've been better boy," Alastor replied. "I've been meaning to see you. Asked Dumbledore the other month to give you a message. Don't expect the old coot to remember, mind."

"I - I haven't seen him since Easter," James reasoned. "How have you been?"

"You're repeating yourself boy. I've got a proposal for you."

"A - A _proposal_, Sir?"

"Don't worry Potter; I'm not going to get down on one knee."

"No, of course not, Sir."

"_No, of course not, Sir_," Alastor Moody mimicked and sat beside James on the fountain. "What you been doing lately then? How's your wife and kid?"

"Lily - oh, she's fine and Harry-"

"-I know about Harry. We _all_ know about Harry. I don't care about them. I was just being polite."

"Oh."

"Well, I care that they're safe; Pot - _Lily_ being in the Order of the Phoenix with us and all... anyway, I have a proposal for you. As you know, I'm Head of the Auror Office, and I want you to come and work for me."

James blinked. "I - I'm sorry."

"I want you to train as an Auror and come and work for me."

An Auror was James' back-up plan in life if he ever ran out of money. An Auror was a _very_ good job, and to just be offered one was _remarkable_... but it wasn't something James wanted to do. He wanted to stay at home and look after Harry, Lily and their future child. Not go swanning off to work and leave Lily in the lurch to look after _two_ children.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but I'm going to have to decline."

"What?"

"We have a child, Lily and me, Sir, and we're planning on having another one soon. It wouldn't be fair to Harry, Lily or the baby if I'm away all the time training to be an Auror. What with my time off, I would never _qualify_ as an Auror."

"Don't train then. Just have the job. You're a bloody good fighter, Potter; I want you on the team."

"I'm sorry, Sir, but I'm going to have to say no."

Alastor eyed him. He hadn't expected James to refuse his offer - a remarkably _good_ offer, might he add; he never went round offering jobs to just anybody. James was a fool to not take him up on it, but there were equally good duellers out there, and Alastor could find one. So he slowly got up, and took a calming swig out of his legendary hip flask.

"The offer's still there when you're ready. Good luck with your... with your _baby making_. Give Harry and Lily my best and well... Until we meet again, Potter."

"Sir, it's a _very_ good offer - it's an honour that you'd ask me so _suddenly_, but my family comes before a job I'm afraid. I love my family more than anything else in the world so-"

"-I get it boy; no need to rub your family values in my face. Good afternoon and good luck with... life."

"Yes, thank you, Sir."

In shock, James watched the old man hobble away. Alastor Moody was famous Nationwide; half the cells in Azkaban would be empty without him, and people respected and admired him. People cleared a path for him when he walked through. He resembled Jesus parting the seas like in a story James read a long time ago. Sirius was one of those who stood aside for Alastor Moody, and joined the younger man at the fountain.

Sirius was wearing a suit and tie, and had most likely just been in court ridding the world of criminals who gave Muggles hexed items and watch and laugh through their living room windows. Sirius immediately asked: "What did Mad-Eye Moody want with you?"

"He offered me a job."

"What?" Sirius asked in surprise. "That's amazing! We're going to be working together!"

"I declined."

"What? Why would you do that?"

"Because I have to stay at home with Lily."

"What? It's an _Auror _job! One of the best jobs at the Ministry! It's an honour that he'd ask you at all."

"That's what I said," James informed. "Where's Moony?"

"He sent Lydia to come and find me to say that he'd be late. Apparently, he's telling Amos that they're having a baby. I expect Lydia got out there pretty sharpish."

"I saw her pass me when Alastor came over. She looked nervous."

"I'd say," Sirius agreed. "So what, are we going to wait for him or just go to lunch without him?"

They decided to wait at the fountain for their friend. Several minutes passed and he still had not arrived. Just as they were about to leave, Remus arrived, looking rather dishevelled and exhausted and relayed his events of the past morning.

...

It was best to tell Amos that he and Lydia were expecting a baby before it was evident on Lydia that she was expecting. Remus had an idea that Amos knew about their relationship, but he had never mentioned it to them before, so that made Remus doubt his previous speculation...

Never the less, when the clock struck twelve o'clock and everyone was preparing to leave for lunch, Remus went to see his co-worker. Amos left at twelve o'clock daily now to look after his child so Remus was boss from twelve onwards. Twelve o'clock was the only time Remus was vacant and the only time he could speak to Amos. So Remus took that on board, and a few minutes towards twelve, Remus tapped on the boss' office.

"Enter."

Remus complied and entered Amos' office. It was completely identical to Remus', except that the former's office was a lot less tidier than the latter's: paperwork littered on the desk, books strewn on the floor near the shelves Amos used as a bookshelf, the bin almost overflowed and incessant dirty, coffee mugs piled on his desk that he hadn't bothered to clear up, though it would merely take a flick of his wand to sort them out.

"Ah, Remus. What can I do you for today then? Need some extra time on your reports again, is it?"

Remus shook his head. "No. It's um... about Lydia."

"Greengrass?" Remus shook his head. "What's she done this time? She's gotten herself into more hassle than she's worth that one... I ought to fire her..."

"No, she hasn't done anything wrong," Remus defended. "The complete opposite, actually. It's just-"

"-Remus, stop. I can't let you go on like this. I know about you and Lydia."

"Oh," Remus said, "oh. Why didn't you say anything?"

"Why didn't _you_?"

"I - I don't know. I didn't want Lydia to lose her job I suppose..." Remus paused. "That's a pretty bad excuse now I say it out loud. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I just didn't think anyone would be alright with it."

"The rest of the work force approved; they were placing bets on how long you'd stay together. I placed a galleon bet on the two of you."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence."

"Is that all you came to tell me? That the two of you are together?"

"Not exactly; Lydia and I are having a baby."

Amos literally froze. He was flicking through a small file and was mid-way turning a page when Remus confessed him the news. "I - I don't know whether to congratulate you or not."

"Everyone else just congratulates us. If you don't though, I'm not surprised; it came as a bit of a shock to me when I found out, too."

Amos rose and strode round the desk. He extended his hand and Remus gladly shook it. "It's going to be hard for you, Remus; looking after a newborn kid and having to go away once a month. There isn't any threat to the baby, is there?"

Remus withdrew his hand. "The Midwives and Nurses at the Hospital have said there looks to be no abnormalities."

"I take it you still haven't told Lydia?" Remus shook his head. "You need to do it pretty sharpish, because if the baby _does_ come out like you: a werewolf, she's going to be _very_ angry when she finds out you've kept it from her."

"Right now I'm keeping my fingers-crossed that she won't need to know. I'll tell her after the baby's been born; I don't want to stress her out."

"It might be too late."

Remus bowed his head. "I know," he admitted. "But I can't see it happening any other way. If she wasn't pregnant I would have told her by now, but she is so I can't. Please don't tell her, Amos, let me do it myself."

"I'm not going to tell her," he decided. "It's none of my business: strictly yours. Remember, if you ever need anything, Agnes and I are always here to help you, and if you ever need a babysitter when your little 'bundle of joy' is born, you know where to go."

Remus had no desire for Amos and Agnes (Amos' wife) to babysit their child. He had James, Lily and Sirius for that, and he wasn't sure he trusted Amos enough to look after his baby.

"Thanks, Amos."

The elder man smiled and grabbed the werewolf's shoulder. "Right, I best be off then. Good luck for the rest of the day and I shall see you tomorrow at nine o'clock."

"Of course, Sir."

Remus left Amos to pack up his things. That had gone a lot better than Remus had expected, he had been nervous over nothing. Lydia had already gone and it was ten past twelve. Grabbing his robes from his office and some money, he got in the lift, went down to the Plaza and met with James and Sirius by the fountain like agreed.

"So how did it go?"

"Pretty well," Remus smiled. "Pretty well."

...

When Remus returned home that evening after dinner with James and Lily (Lydia did not attend because she was unwell) Remus returned to find Lydia lying in bed reading the unfinished book Remus had previously been re-reading:_Of Mice and Men_. She had almost completed it, and that wasn't a particularly hard task; the book was only short and _very_ entrancing.

Lydia did not look up from the novel when Remus entered the bedroom, and Remus took it upon himself to announce his presence: "I first read that book when I was thirteen and ill at Hogwarts, and when Sirius saw what I was reading, he tore out the last seven pages from the book. I had to search everywhere for them - turns out they were by the Whomping Willow the whole time. _Hell_ of a task to get them back mind, but it was worth it. Great book that is."

"Some of it is," Lydia agreed and closed it, placing the book on the bed. "I've been thinking, seeing as Amos knows I'm pregnant now, is he still going to send you off every Full Moon to do your reports?"

Remus bit his lip. "Probably."

"That's not very fair though," Lydia declared as Remus began to undress. "He can't expect you to leave me once a month once our baby has been born, can he?"

"No one else will go," Remus replied. "Does it bother you that I go presently?"

"I miss you," Lydia answered. "I hate when you're not here, beside me in bed and it's always cold." From across the room, Remus smiled at her, but she didn't appreciate it. "Don't patronize me, Remus."

He shook his head. He was going to counter that he _wasn't_ patronizing her, but the girl was five months pregnant, and even so early on he knew not to counter her on an argument. "Sorry. But Lydia, my job is very important, and I can't abandon my project so premature into my investigation."

"So you're willing to abandon me and our child, thanks Remus: thanks a lot."

"That wasn't what I meant-"

"-No, no of course not. With you it's work, work, work and more shitty, boring work. What's going to happen when the baby's born, eh Remus? Are you going to _dump_ it on someone if you get an owl from work saying they '_desperately need you'_ for a dangerous job that only you can do? There's a reason no one else does it; because they're not as stupid as you."

"You're just tired, Lydia. Calm down-"

"-NO! Don't tell me to _'calm down_' Remus Lupin. I've had enough of this," she began to get out of her.

"Wh - where are you going?"

"To my Mum's, where she'll put _me_ first and not her job."

Remus laughed. "Get back into bed."

"No. I've had enough of this, you not taking me seriously. There's something you're hiding from me, I just know there is! Lily, James and Sirius know it, too; the sympathetic look they give me whenever I'm around like they feel _sorry_ for me."

"Anything I do, I do it to protect you and now the baby. Get back into bed!"

"Even if it means leaving us every Full Moon?" She asked coolly. "I've had enough of this; it's either me and the baby or your work."

"Lydia-"

"-Don't _Lydia_ me, Remus. What's it going to be - your 'precious' reports or us?"

This was exactly the sort of thing everyone had warned him of. He now understood that he had to tell her the truth, and this was a perfect time to do it. _What, when she's angry and hormonal, giving you ultimatums and threatening to move out? Perfect timing, oh yes, perfect timing_. Remus pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd pick Lydia and the baby any day of the week, and if it meant changing the story of where he was going - or perhaps even going away for _one_ night instead of six or seven, he'd do it.

"I choose you. Merlin, Lydia I'll always choose you."

"So - so you'll be there for us, twenty-four-seven?"

Remus nodded and walked over to her. He took her hands in his. "Twenty-four-seven. I'll tell Amos tomorrow that once the baby's born someone else can tackle the project."

"Do you - do you really mean that?"

The werewolf kissed the temple of Lydia's forehead. "Of course. I love you and I love our child. There's nothing else I'd rather have in the world than you two because I love you, I always have and I always will."

"I love you too," she whispered, her voice hoarse, shaking because she was on the verge of tears. "Oh Remus, I love you so much. I could never leave you no matter what." Remus was sure he could think of one reason - maybe two - why she'd leave him. "I promise I'll always be here with you, just like you will with me."

"You don't know how much that means to me to hear you say that," Remus confessed.

She threw her arms round Remus' waist. "I'll always be here with you, through thick and thin. You can't ever get rid of me, no matter how hard you try."

Remus suspected he wouldn't have to try very hard. Sometimes just telling the truth was enough to make someone you love leave you. Easily said and done, Remus supposed, with one declaration Remus could lose everything he loved most in his life. He was lucky that Sirius and James never left him, in ten years of them knowing about his 'Furry Little Problem' and still, to this day they were with him for every Full Moon. Would Lydia be as understanding as them? Remus hoped so. He _really_ hoped so.


	8. My Greatest Loss

**A.N: **Goodness... I just want to say that this chapter isn't meant to OFFEND anyone, and I hope you 'enjoy' reading it.

**Disclaimer: **Am I JK Rowling? Do I own this? Bitch I might be.

**Previously: **Lydia discovers she is pregnant with Remus' child, but the latter is dreading telling the Mother of his child that he is a Werewolf. Sirius goes to visit his Mother at 12 Grimmalaud Place with disastrous consequences.

**Contact: **satansbowtie**dot**tumblr**dot**com - **replace dot with **.

_Enjoy =)_

* * *

The air outside was cold and the night sky, dark. It was too chilly for August; August was still supposed to be summer, not a brisk December-like weather. It was only ten o'clock and Sirius, because of the cold, was debating whether or not he should pack up and go home. He was lighting a cigarette in between his teeth, leaning against a cold, brick wall in a narrow alleyway, bottle of alcohol by his left foot. It was an abandoned alley, with cans of larger, needles, used condoms and their empty wrappers were strewn across the floor. Apparently, there was no existing job to clear up these alleyways, so the mess looked as if it had found a permanent home until the wind gathered enough strength (like tonight) to blow it away.

Sirius, while smoking his cigarette was oblivious that he was being watched by a pair of pretty blue eyes he had once stared into when 'making love'. She made sure that Sirius had finished his cigarette before she emerged from behind a large, metal bin packed to the brim with rubbish. She wore a tight dress and expensive, light pink heels. Her black hair fell in ringlets and she watched Sirius with a tint of arrogance in the air. She crossed her slender arms and with her pink stilettos making a noise on the stone floor, ventured over to him.

"You know smoking can make men impotence," informed the lady as she moved to the bachelor. He eyed her, chewing his lip, as if aroused by her mere presence. "Meaning that they can't get a boner."

Sirius only shrugged and bent down to pick up his drink. "I've been smoking nine years, and never once have I failed to get an erection."

"Hmh... And how long have you been having sex?"

"Ten."

"So you were... _fourteen_ the first time you got laid? Impressive. Most boys that age were still getting off to _PlayWitch_ or _Leviosa_."

Sirius chuckled. "_Leviosa_? Never heard of it."

"It's a pun of Wingardium Leviosa."

"I know what it's from."

She cocked her head to the side, studying him. She too, bit her glossy, blood red lips. "So you _have_ heard of it."

"Might have seen it once or twice. Have you been following me, Miss Rosier?"

Helena Rosier took more steps towards him and stood - alarmingly close - next to him. "Surprised you remembered my name, Black."

"How could I forget you? Best shag of the year."

She threw her head back and laughed, then faced him, crossing her arms as if amused. "Bet you say that to all the girls."

"Nope; I never see them again. Seriously though, how you been - seeing anyone?"

"No-_pe_."

"Good," Sirius purred and faced her too. She was a few centimetres shorter than him, and she made no effort to increase her height. "Then I won't feel bad for doing this."

With his hands, he cupped the back of Helena's neck and kissed her fiercely. She kissed him just as passionately back and was, subsequently, pushed back against the wall. Her fingers, entwined themselves in his hair, mussing it up. His hands explored the lower parts of her body until he heaved her up so she was mid-air, Sirius supporting her on the wall. Gasping for breath, he challenged: "Want me to show you that smoking doesn't harm _my_ impotence?"

She said nothing and grabbed his head, pulling him to her lips again. She was enjoying him and he was lusting her. Devouring each other with every breath they took, making sure that every second was desirable and pleasurable - and for Sirius, it most _definitely _ was.

...

By October, Lydia looked like she'd swallowed a balloon and Lily, one morning, realised that she was going to be _exactly_ the same in eight or nine months time. She wasn't quite sure; the positive pregnancy revealed only one thing: enceinte or not. She recalled how heartbroken she was upon discovering, last time, that she was not pregnant, so brought three tests at once, tested all three and they each resulted in revealing her positive pregnancy.

She could barely contain her excitement, and clutching all three pregnancy tests in her hand, she swiftly exited the bathroom and went straight downstairs. James was in the living room, watching Harry playing on the floor with some blocks. James seemed to be drifting off to sleep, being it only twelve o'clock in the afternoon. Lily had a very good way of keeping him awake now.

"James, take Harry upstairs," Lily demanded.

Harry looked up at her with pleading eyes. "Stay here!"

"What's the harm in him staying here?"

"It will only be a minute," she informed impatiently. "Or put him in the next room. I need to tell you something and it's important."

James shrugged and did as he was told, carrying Harry and his toys to the dining area and propping him on the floor. "What's so important that Harry needed to be moved ten metres for?"

"James, I'm pregnant."

He was shocked to the core. James didn't know how to react. He knew, that the only emotions he was feeling were positive ones; he couldn't wait to be a Father again, but he definitely knew that, despite them _planning_ for the pregnancy, it was certainly still a surprise. "Are you sure?"

She passed him the tests. "Very sure."

He didn't particularly want to hold Lily's pee-drenched sticks, so promptly passed them back to her. "That is absolutely fantastic. Come here." Clutching the side of Lily's face, he kissed her once, for a matter of a few seconds then embraced her. "This has been the best news I've had all year. I can't wait to tell-"

"-No," Lily halted. "We can't tell anyone."

James drew back from their hug. "What? Why not?"

"Because I don't want anyone knowing until it's definite. Wait until it's been twenty weeks and we went to the scan. Remus and Lydia's news was broken by Sirius and Lydia wasn't best pleased at all-"

"-_That's_ why she was pissed - sorry _annoyed_ at him in her first weeks. Sirius isn't really the best at keeping those sorts of secrets, I'll admit."

"That's why we can't tell him," Lily stated nervously. "James, please promise me you won't tell Sirius yet."

...

"Lily's pregnant."

James kept his promise for no longer than fifteen minutes. He didn't purposely mean to tell Sirius, but upon seeing his best friend (who could drink) he had to tell him and celebrate with him. Sure enough, when the expecting Father expressed the news, after Sirius congratulated him, he summoned two bottles of alcohol from the fridge.

"But you can't tell anyone though; I wasn't even meant to tell you, but you're my best friend so I had to. Don't tell Lily you know either; she'll kill me."

"Relax Prongs; I won't tell anyone."

...

"PRONGS AND LILY ARE HAVING A BABY!" Sirius announced, mid-afternoon, prancing into Remus' office after being told by James during his lunch hour. "I'M GOING TO BE A GODFATHER AGAIN!"

"What makes _you_ so sure _you'll_ be Godfather? It's my turn."

"Because I'm Prongs' best friend and HE TOLD ME NOT YOU!"

"_Keep your voice down_," Remus hissed. "Amos is holding a meeting next door! Are you sure she's pregnant, when did James tell you?"

"About twenty minutes ago."

"Shouldn't you be at work?"

He shrugged and lounged in a chair opposite Remus' desk. "They'll survive without me and, how often can I celebrate the birth of a best friend's pregnancy?"

"Eight months ago?" Remus suggested.

"Good point - you got a bottle opener?"

"You're not drinking in my office, Padfoot."

"Fine, if you won't cooperate, I'll just use my wand," Sirius did so, and the top of a bottle flew off. "Oh, and by the way, you can't tell anyone about this. Don't tell James because he'll kill me if he knows I told you. You can't tell Lily, either, because she'll murder James who will murder me for telling you."

"That is a tempting offer, though," Remus mused. "Finally getting rid of you? That's my dream."

...

"So Lily's having a baby." Remus announced, walking through his front door.

"What?" Lydia asked from the sofa, bowl of cereal resting on her bloated belly. "Lily's pregnant?" Remus nodded. "That's fantastic."

"It is," Remus admitted. "How are you?"

"I'm good, how long is Lily pregnant?"

"I don't know; Sirius didn't say."

Lydia wore a look of displeasure. "_Sirius_ told you? I take it Lily doesn't know that you know?"

"No - and you can't tell her. If you do, she'll murder James for telling Sirius and James will murder Sirius for telling me and then Sirius will murder me for telling _you_."

"How does that work out?"

Remus shrugged. "Just promise me you _can't_ tell Lily you know she's pregnant."

...

"So, congratulations on the baby," Lydia praised the evening Remus told her. When she received a surprised look from Lily, Lydia added: "Remus told me."

"And James told him?"

"_Sirius_ told him."

Lily threw the dish cloth down in frustration. "I _explicitly_ told James _not _to tell anyone!"

"Sorry to be the bearer of bad news," Lydia smiled. "Don't kill Remus though, please. I'm all for you killing Sirius, mind; he told everyone about _our_ baby, after all."

"Hmh..." Lily hummed. "Do you want to sit down? You look exhausted."

Lydia did so and collapsed on the sofa. "I feel like I'm going to mould into this and I'll never get up. Sorry if I give birth on your sofa, Lily, but it's your fault for it being so damn comfy."

"Blame DFS, not me."

"Curse you DFS with your overly-priced, super-comfy sofas. But seriously, I can't get up. You have all this to be looking forward to: morning sickness, headaches, cramps, hormones, being fat, incessant peeing... How the _hell_ did you manage to do this once, and then say: 'hey, I liked all this pain I went through three years ago, I think I'm going to do it again' and be so _calm_ about it. I'm never having children again. I'm getting my ovaries removed. I'd literally rather _die_ than do it again."

"Giving birth's even worse," Lily soothed.

"I love this sofa," she whispered.

Lily laughed. "You're insane! I feel sorry for Remus having to go through it all the time with you."

"Merlin, he's lucky he doesn't have to go through all this _agonizing pain - _and he's being so patronizing about it! I want to swap places with him, just _one_ day and have a peaceful night's sleep and not having to go for a pee every time I sneeze, sit down or _breathe_. It's like this little beast is playing with my bladder."

"_Beast_?" Lily echoed.

"This horrible thing that's causing grief in my womb. It's probably a mutation of some sort."

"Don't let Remus hear you say that; he'll be worried."

"He's been so good through this," Lydia contradicted. "So lovely."

"You're very lucky to have him," Lily said.

"I know," smiled Lydia. "I really am."

* * *

_Hour One_

By October, Lydia looked like she'd swallowed a balloon, and by September, she was ready to have her baby. The latter statement was proved true in the early hours of September the eleventh, to be exact: the day Lydia Greengrass and Remus Lupin would bring life into the world.

It was around three o'clock in the morning, and was one of the rare nights Lydia had fallen asleep before twelve o'clock. Remus was fast asleep and undisturbed when Lydia awoke to a stabbing pain in her stomach, which she instantly knew was the baby. She clutched her stomach and let out a loud groan, thumping Remus square in the chest due to the pain. Lydia knew that it didn't hurt Remus - though Remus clutched _himself_ in pain after she punched him. It was _nothing_ to the pain she was feeling - that she was one hundred percent certain of.

"Remus, get me to the Hospital."

"Are you giving birth?"

This time, she screamed when the pain reiterated and Remus was quick to get out of bed. He used magic to get Lydia's bag she had packed a few days before, due to the Midwife's relentless nagging at them to do so. It was still in Lydia's wardrobe; she hadn't expected to be giving birth almost one month early. It was the beginning of September, and Lydia was due to have her baby at the end of September/beginning of October and she was already starting to panic.

"Maybe you're not in labour - maybe the baby is just moving around in there," Remus suggested.

"YOU IDIOT!" Lydia screeched. "THE BABY IS TRYING TO ESCAPE!"

Remus didn't answer her scream. "Do you need to get dressed?"

"I DON'T HAVE TIME. JUST. GET. ME. TO. THE. HOSPITAL. _NOW_."

He complied. Grabbing Lydia's blue suitcase he dashed around the bed, grabbed her arm and apparated just outside the hospital. It was deserted, and Remus was grateful no one had just seen them appear out of thin air. The satisfaction subsided quite quickly; Lydia was being assisted the instant (almost) they overcame the apparition. She was put in a wheelchair, and with Remus jogging alongside her, they were rushed into a private, hospital room.

The Nurses helped Lydia onto a bed and Remus was instructed to keep out of the way. They checked the expecting girl over while Remus waited - helplessly - to the side, anxiously chewing her thumb.

"When is she expected to have the baby?" One Nurse asked Remus.

"Uhh..." It was hard for Remus to think. "October 3rd - they thought the baby was older in the womb for a while up until six months... If that helps."

The Nurse smiled at him. "That does help, thank you. Is Lydia's birthing partner present?"

"No it's her Mum."

"Would you like to call her?"

Remus nodded. "Yeah - um – but can I speak to Lydia first?"

"She's going to be a bit occupied for a while with the Nurses-"

"-I'm not leaving her side," Remus stated.

"Of course not. I wouldn't expect you to. I'm afraid, though, there's not much you can do apart from be here. You need to make contact with the Mother soon; she should be present at all time in labour."

"Yes," Remus agreed through gritted teeth. "But I need to talk with Lydia; it's _urgent_."

"I think her health is a bit more important, don't you Mr. Greengrass?"

"I'm not her husband - don't you Nurses check through anything?"

The Nurse looked rather put off. "If you're going to be rude, you can leave. You're tired, I understand that - stressed and anxious too - but I would prefer it if you kept your temper at bay, please."

"Fine," said Remus coolly. "Fine, you tell Lydia that her Mum's on Holiday with the rest of the family at the moment, and all back-up Birthing Partners she and I discussed are halfway across the world in Tibet. She doesn't want to be left alone and I faint at the sight of anything gory - ironically enough... So I need to see if she can have anyone _else_ as a Birthing Partner, please."

"The Birthing Partner does not need to be here at the present time."

"But you _just _said the Birthing Partner should be present all the time during labour."

The Nurse scowled at him. "Alright then, go ahead."

"_Thank you_."

Remus barged past the woman to Lydia's bed. She had calmed down now, breathing deeply and smiled at Remus. "Lydia, your Mother's on Holiday."

"I know - she told me a few weeks ago."

"She's your Birthing Partner," Remus elaborated.

"Such great timing she has," Lydia duly noted.

"So is Deborah and so is Persephone. Your two step-in Birthing Partner's are in Tibet-"

"-You'll have to do it."

"You want _me_ to be there? Darling, I fainted at the birth of Harry and I was looking through the window. Did I forget to tell you that?"

"You told me," Lydia said through gritted teeth. "Get Lily here."

"_Lily_?" Remus echoed.

"Lily," Lydia confirmed. "She's done this once and she's going to do it again. Might as well give her some practice. Get her to come here _now_."

"You said you didn't want anyone apart from-"

"-I know what I said, _get Lily_."

"James will be with her," Remus informed.

"I don't care," Lydia snapped. "Bring James along too, but he's staying outside in the corridor with you while I'm having the baby."

"That's not really fair on Sirius then, either..."

"-FINE!" Lydia yelled. "Fine, bring Sirius along with you. I know you wanted him to be here and now you've got your wish. Just _get me my birthing partner_."

Remus, with a kiss on the lips to Lydia, fled the room as quickly as he could and searched the corridors for a fireplace. He checked two whole floors - every room and every cupboard - but alas, no fireplace. He was growing impatient, and he knew how frightened Lydia would be in that room, all alone with no one but strangers around her as she gave birth to her child - _their_ child, Remus corrected. _If it is even a child at all..._

He found one eventually, in a staff room, and locking the door behind him, pulled out an emergency bag of floo powder, threw it in the fireplace and stuck his head in.

"JAMES? LILY?" He shouted at the top of his voice. "PRONGS?"

It was early in the morning, and he was absolutely certain the Potter's would not be awake by now. He shouted them repeatedly until he heard movement on the other end, and James joined him in the fireplace.

"Moony... It's three o'clock in the morning _what do you want_?"

"Lydia's having the baby."

"_Having_? You said-"

"-Her family's in China and Lydia needs Lily as her birthing partner. Come to the Hospital as quickly as you can - it's the same one you had Harry in. We're on the fourth floor, room nine b."

"Roger," James announced. "Give us some time to wake up though, yeah? Let us get dressed - how long has she been in labour for?"

"About fifteen minutes."

"What about dilation?"

"Uhh... Two centimetres."

James sighed. "Moony... She's not going to have the baby for _hours_ yet-"

"-She _needs_ Lily _now_. Come on James, this is my child, don't be so selfish."

"I hate your child. Growing up, I'm constantly going to remind it that it woke me up at four in the morning to be born. It better be worth it – you better name it James."

"Save it; go get Lily and come here as quickly as you can. I'm going to floo Sirius."

"Good luck," James wished. "You're gonna need it."

* * *

_Hour Two_

It took James, Lily and Sirius almost three quarters of an hour to arrive at the Hospital, and like James predicted, Lydia was nowhere close to being ready to give birth. She was sat up in bed, reading a tedious magazine and Remus was pacing the floor, making the room look untidy. Both Lydia and Remus were relieved to see the trio arrive - all three of them bearing gifts. James was holding a soft brown, huge teddy bear with _HAPPY BIRTHDAY _written on a pink heart. Lily had a bouquet of flowers and Sirius had multiple balloons, some reading _IT'S A BOY _while others read _IT'S A GIRL_.

"I'll get rid of the ones that don't suit," Sirius explained and went to Lydia's bed and tied them to a post. "How you doing Lyds?"

"Better now," Lydia smiled.

Lily went over to hug Lydia. "I know how hard this must be for you, not to have your Mother here beside you, but don't worry; I am going to be the best birthing partner you have ever had. If you need something doing, I'll be there."

"Thank you," Lydia thanked. "And thanks for the flowers; they're lovely, and the teddy, James, I think my child may be scared to have that being the first thing it sees in life."

James shrugged. "I think it's cute."

"A bit extravagant," Sirius noted.

"What, and twenty seven balloons aren't?" Lydia questioned.

"_Nineteen_," Sirius corrected. "It'll be halved depending on if it's a boy or not. Speaking of which... what are you going to call the kid?"

Lydia and Remus exchanged looks. "Do we tell them?"

"Or do we make them wait?"

"Come on," Lily urged. "Tell us!"

"If it's a boy, we've decided on either Jonathan or Oliver. If it's a girl: Alice or Callie."

"We never agreed on Callie," Remus countered. "It was either Alice or Emily."

"Yes, but I like Callie."

"They're both lovely names," Lily promised. "But I like Emily best - or Emma."

"I think this is a conversation for later down the line," James put an arm round his wife's shoulder. "Can I get you all something to drink? Coffees all around for you three?" The three in question nodded. "What about you Lyds?"

"Something a bit stronger for me," Lydia grumbled.

"You can't drink! Prongs, don't get her any alcohol. You're not even allowed anything to drink - just get her some ice chips."

"Food?"

"Ice chips," Remus repeated.

Lydia threw her head back. "I'm _starving_; I haven't eaten anything for almost twelve hours and I want some fajitas."

"Fajitas?" Lily laughed.

"Mhm, I want some fajitas, I haven't had any in _ages_.

"Tell you what Lyds," Sirius began. "The day you get out of here, I'm taking you and the baby out for Mexican. Chicken fajitas do for you?"

"Oh God yes _please_," Lydia moaned. "Don't let him forget this, any of you. Don't let him forget the promise of buying me food."

"We won't," Remus told her, stroking her sleek hair. "This will all be over soon, and we'll have a beautiful baby at the end of this, and you and I will be happy."

"Aren't we already?"

"Well, I can't vouch for you, but I've been pretty happy these past few months. Despite all your pain and suffering, something really good is going to come out the end of this."

"Literally," he joked. Lydia, however, seemed far from impressed. "Only kidding Lyds - _sheesh_ - don't look at me like that! I'll go and get the drinks, shall I?"

"That might be a good idea, Padfoot," Remus advised.

When Sirius left the room, everything around him just reminded him of babies. Smelly, boring, lazy babies that couldn't even take care of themselves. They were a waste of time - he could happily go his entire life without having children, and why Remus wanted one he did not know. Why James and Lily wanted _another_ was a complete mystery. They couldn't do anything while they were young, and after that they were your responsibility to teach to walk, talk and be good members of society. After that, you had to deal with the hormones and the girlfriends/boyfriends and the rebelliousness. No wonder his parents were so keen for him to leave; raising kids were a bloody _nightmare_!

* * *

_Hour Three_

Lydia was scheduled for many tests that hour, and even though Lydia performed three blood tests, one urine sample and an ultrasound scan, she was not worried about her child and she was not stressed. She was engaging in a game of regular chess with Sirius on her bed. James was dozing off to the side, Lily was with the chess players on the bed and Remus had gone to get more information from the Nurses what the tests were for. Later, he arrived with the same woman whom he had confronted earlier, and Remus had a look of annoyance on his face.

"You shouldn't have this many guests at once," the Nurse informed.

"They're family," Lydia lied, and the Nurse challenged her. "Lily here's my sister and that's her husband snoring over there, and this here is our brother."

The Nurse, though she seemed reluctant to believe them, gave them the benefit of the doubt. "Well it's nice to meet you all. My name here is Hanna and I am your sister's Nurse."

"It's very nice to meet you," Lily smiled.

"You too," Hanna smiled back. "I have here the results from tests you did previously: the blood and urine samples and ultrasound scans. We saw on your records that you are a vegetarian - is that correct?"

"Yes," Lydia answered, straightening herself up.

"So you did not consume any meat during your pregnancy?"

"That's what a vegetarian means," Remus said through gritted teeth.

"Yes, thank you Mr. Lupin, I know quite well what a Vegetarian is. It seems, Lydia, due to the lack of red meat in your system, you have developed a protein-deficiency while pregnant called anaemia."

"Anaemia?" Lily echoed. "Isn't that an iron deficiency?"

"That, also, but from the vitamins you were prescribed to because of your eating habits, your iron intake is perfectly normal. Your protein, however, is not. Do you eat fish and eggs, Lydia?"

"Not fish, no. Eggs... not really either."

Hanna frowned at her and Remus - catching onto this - inquired. "Could this be a problem?"

"A problem that should have been picked up in the early stages of pregnancy. A lack of protein for a pregnant woman could mean that your baby may have a weak and brittle bone structure and poor muscle development. It is unlikely that this will be the case, as it was never brought up in pre-scans, but I want to warn you that it may be an issue."

"And what could this mean?" Lydia asked.

"Your baby will be in an incubator for several days when he/she is born to ensure its health. It is only a thirty percent chance this will be the case, but there is a more severe consequence than this," feared Hanna. "It seems, that the lack of protein in your diet has not only affected your baby, but you as well, Lydia. It will be a very difficult labour for you, I must inform. You will be very weak, and if you cannot cope with the birth, you will be put under general anaesthetic and give birth via caesarean section."

"But - but that can't be the _reason_ why this is happening, is it Nurse?" Remus prompted.

Hanna nodded. "It is the only reason." Remus, Lily and Sirius exchanged looks. "A consultant will be through with you momentarily to discuss thorough birthing plans. I must only ask you not to worry yourself too much; your pregnancy can still be safe and sound, despite this."

Lydia was speechless and Hanna the Nurse left the room. Lydia stared into space, and Lily sucked in her lip. "I'm sure everything will be fine Lydia; if the concern was too critical, you would have been forced to have the baby by now."

All she could do was nod. "Everything will be fine," Remus promised and took her hand, gripping it tightly. "Everything is going to be completely fine. I promise you."

* * *

_Hour Four_

In the next hour, Lydia fell unconscious, and it was at the time Remus had gone home to have a shower and have something to eat. James, Lily and Sirius were ushered out the room, and in a quiet corridor, their fears and suspicions began to rise.

"You - you don't think this has something to do with Remus, do you?" Sirius whispered.

"I don't know," Lily admitted. "Anaemia is a very rare cause due to lack of protein. It's like I said to Hanna: it's more commonly found in lack of _iron_, not lack of protein."

"Protein and Iron aren't too different. It can't be anaemia. It has to be Remus."

"It can't be though - it shouldn't harm anyone! Dumbledore even told him... A Healer or someone must have warned him by now if there was at least the _slightest_ of chance..."

"You can't inherit Lycanthropy, but strange as it may sound we know more than these Professional Doctors... So what do we do?"

"No offense, but Nurse Hanna doesn't seem too _trustworthy_," Sirius confessed.

"And we can't expose the Wizarding World for the sake of one chance pregnancy," James agreed. "We can either stay silent, or risk Lydia and the baby's health."

Lily held up her hand. "Don't say it like that James; it makes you sound like we don't care about her. We do care - of _course _we care... But for all we know it _could_ be anaemia and it would be no help to anyone if everyone discovered Remus was a werewolf _and_ magic in the same day..."

"What do we tell Remus?" James asked.

"We don't." James and Lily turned to him. "You know what he's like; he'll start panicking and do something stupid like expose the Wizarding World to Muggles! He'll start blaming himself and do something drastic... He can't know."

"How can we not tell him though?" Lily hissed. "We have to tell him, this is a bad, _bad_ idea!"

James sighed. "I agree with Sirius, we shouldn't tell him."

"Lydia will."

"No she won't," James dismissed. "She'd have wished for us to do the same. We can say Lydia had a bad turn but she's going to be fine."

"We don't say _anything_," Sirius ordered.

"I'm not lying to him!"

"It's not lying, it's just buying us some time. When Remus gets back we send him out for more errands and stop him from seeing Lydia! It's our only chance."

"We should tell him though! If it were the other way around, Sirius, would _you_ want to know?"

"I don't know because I'm never going to get to be a parent, am I?" Sirius snapped sadistically.

"Not at this rate; if you keep arguing with me then I'm going to chop off your-"

"-What are you all doing outside?"

It was Remus: freshly clothed and with a paper cup of coffee in his hand. The three friends looked at each other, but when Lily turned her back on the three men and walked down the corridor, James and Sirius had her permission to lie to Remus.

"Moony... Thank Merlin you're back... We've just been arguing about who should go and get the coffee - will you go and get us it?"

"I need to see Lydia-"

He took a step to the door, but Sirius and James blocked his way and sight. Remus cast them a suspicious look. "She's asleep!" James blurted. "And the Nurses told us to shoo. Nurse Hanna will have our garters for guts if we go in there."

"_Guts for Garters_," Remus corrected with a smile. "Alright, I'll go and get you two a coffee: two blacks?"

"No," Sirius declined. "I want a white coffee with three sugars with a hint of vanilla, and James wants a white coffee, too, with a mixture of gingerbread and cinnamon."

Remus laughed. "I'm not a coffee shop."

"Go to one," Sirius ordered. "There's one down the road from here - go and get us a _decent_ cup of coffee instead of this dishwater. Lydia will be grateful for the peace and quiet." Remus didn't budge. "What are you waiting for? GO!"

Remus rolled his eyes and turned away from the men. Once he was out of sight and out of ear shot, both men let out a simultaneous sigh of relief and looked at each other. "That was close."

"I'm surprised it worked," James confessed.

"So am I," admitted Padfoot.

"So out of all of this I don't even get some coffee?" Lily complained.

"You can have mine," James offered.

"Now that," began Sirius. "Is true love."

* * *

_Hour Five_

When Remus returned with James and Sirius' (disgusting) orders of coffee, Remus didn't head straight into Lydia's room like feared. She was back conscious now, and Sirius and Lily were in the room with her. James, however, had gone to the bathroom, and when he returned, Remus was sat out on a chair near her room, looking glum with his head hovering just over his legs. Concerned, James went to sit by his friend, offering him some support.

"The pressures of becoming a Daddy finally getting to you, are they?" James joked.

Remus was not in the mood for jokes. "It's all my fault; I'm the reason our baby might be deformed."

"It's only minor undevelopment. Nurse Hanna said it would be better within the week."

"But what about Lydia? What if something happens to her?" He fretted. "I haven't even told her about my 'Furry Little Problem'."

James offered him a comforting smile. "I'd guessed you haven't. But why?"

"I can't bring myself to lose her or our baby."

"Remus..." James sighed. "You need to tell her."

"When?"

"Today."

"How?"

"Go up to her," James advised. "Sit next to her and tell her the truth. Tell her everything: how it happened and why you couldn't tell her. She's not going to care what you turn into once a month, she's going to care what you're like for the rest of the time. She loves you, Moony; it's clear for anyone to see."

"Do you really think so?" Remus asked.

"That she loves you? Of course!"

"No, no I don't doubt that... That she won't be angry and leave me and take our child with her?"

"Of course," James vowed. "And if she ever did, I promise you we would do absolutely _anything_ in our power to get your child back from her."

"I should have told her before now. I was a deceived into even _considering _that I could keep it a secret for this long... I'm such a _fool_!"

"No you're not," James told him. "We're all fools when it comes to love. Do you remember when I thought rearranging the stars in the Great Hall, in Fifth Year, was a great way to ask Lily out? But in the end I only ended up transforming the lightning to get Professor Flitwick electrocuted?"

Despite everything, Remus laughed. "That has got to be one of the most stupid ideas you have _ever_ had in your life."

"But looking back, it was only something silly - and this is how you're going to be feeling, in sixty years time when you're sitting in your back garden with Lydia, old, in a rocking chair and watching your Grandkids running around the garden or playing Quidditch. You're going to realise that you were worrying about nothing, that Lydia loved you with all your heart and she was _never_ going to leave you."

"You're right," Remus agreed. "For once in your life you're right about something."

"Go on then," James said.

"What? Now?"

"Yes now. If not now then never, and you're going to keep on regretting it like you did now. I'll clear out Lily and Sirius and give you and Lydia some time to yourself..."

Remus got up, taking a few, short breaths and smiled at James. "Do you really think I can do this?"

"Of course; you're one of the most courageous men I know, and I also know that you can do this. Now, good luck, and I'll shoo Lily and Sirius for you."

With a good lie, James managed to summon Sirius and Lily out of Lydia's Hospital room and get Remus in. Lydia was relaxed in her bed, smiling at Remus. A box of tissues stood by her side, and Remus went over, pulled up a chair and took her hand.

"Listen, Lydia, there's something I've been meaning to tell you." Remus began. "I've been keeping this from you for too long, and I've been scared to tell you this because I don't know how you'd react... You see, I love you Lydia - I love you and our baby with all my heart - which is why I've kept this from you for so long; because I don't want to lose you."

"Remus, you're scaring me," she confessed.

"Don't be scared," Remus told her. "I'm not going to hurt you."

With a smile, she said: "I know you won't."

It took him a few moments to collect himself, and with a deep breath, he began: "Once a month, I go out to do reports on a Werewolf in Egypt, but that's not the truth. The truth is... I only go to the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmede, and the Werewolf I do my reports on is... me." Her eyes widened, alert. "I was bitten when I was four-years-old by Fenrir Greyback. My father offended him and Greyback struck revenge by biting me, so every Full Moon since I was eleven I went to the Shrieking Shack to transform into a monstrous beast."

It took her a few moments to reply. "I don't care."

"Wh - _What_?"

She stroked the side of his face. "I fell in love with the man who stands before me: Remus Lupin, and Werewolf or not, I will love him, I always have and I always will. I don't _care_ what you are, just like you don't care when I sing too loudly in the shower or leave dirty plates on the side-"

"-This is a little bit different, Lydia-"

"-My point is, I love you no matter what or who you are. I'm never going to leave you and I'm going to take care of you, because that's what two people who love each other do; they put up with each other's flaws. You're not a murderous beast to me; you're a tender human and I adore you. Why couldn't you tell me this before?"

"I don't know - I was afraid."

Lydia shook her head, took Remus' face between her hands and said: "Afraid? Said the man who suffered with Lycanthropy his entire life. I would _never_ judge you for this and I could never leave you. You're here with me, right now, when I'm about to give birth to our baby and that is all I care about. I love you, Remus John Lupin, Werewolf or not, and I will love you for eternity."

Remus moved into kiss her. "You don't care? You're not afraid of me?"

"_Afraid_? Remus, I could never be afraid of you."

"But I just thought-"

She placed a finger on his lips. "I don't care what you are; you're still the same man I fell in love with one year ago. There's no reason for me not to love you any less now I know your secret... But I'd like to continue this conversation after the baby, when we get home, please."

He kissed her temple and smiled at her. "Of course, my Darling. When we get home."

* * *

_Hour Six_

Lydia was ready to have the baby. She was dilated ten centimetres and officially ready to have the baby. Remus, James and Sirius were taken out of the room and made to wait out in the corridor, while Lydia, Lily and numerous other Doctors, Nurses and Midwives stayed into help her give birth.

It did not go to plan, however.

Ten seconds after her first contraction ended, she fell out of consciousness, and Lily was made to leave the room. Remus was anxious - like any man would be - and demanded to be let in. He was not allowed, however, and Lydia gained consciousness, once more after fifteen minutes.

They rescheduled the birth, and after five contractions - just before she was going to be made to push the baby out, she lost consciousness and the cycle started again: Lily was taken out the room, Remus demanded to be let in and she gained consciousness half an hour later.

It repeated once more, and drastic measures needed to take place.

"She has to have a caesarean section," demanded one Doctor.

He was the youngest out of all the twelve Doctors, Nurses and Midwives present and they did not take him seriously. He was only twenty-three - barely out of University and every single one of them ignored him. His name was Ernest Temple, a coloured man who lived in Africa half of his life before immigrating to Britain with his Aunt. He told Remus all this half an hour ago to calm him down, but it did not.

"Go and get some towels, Nurse Temple," instructed one of the elder Doctors.

"No - listen to me! I've seen these signs before - you can't _honestly_ believe that it's still safe for this girl to give birth naturally? She's been unconscious four times for Christ's sake - Lydia, what do you want to happen?"

Lydia, who was white as a sheet, did not respond to Ernest's question. She was hot and clammy, her temperature too high, but that did not raise the other staff's awareness. His eyes fell on Lily who stood beside her. She looked as panicked as Lydia felt, desperately trying to make her friend react to Ernest' question.

"What do you think should be done, Lily - if you don't mind me calling you that?"

"She has to have the baby now," Lily decided. "She's in too much pain; she can't bear it."

"_Ernest_ go and get some towels!" The same Doctor demanded.

Lily looked at Ernest desperately, as if he was her only hope. He was, actually; he was the only one who knew Lydia's state was critical. "This woman is _ill_, Doctor Carter. If we can't give her a caesarean section right now she and the baby are going to-."

"-You're not helping, Ernest-"

Lydia stirred in her bed, and looked at the elderly Doctor Carter with pleading eyes. "_Listen_... _To him_..."

Doctor Carter paused his proceedings and looked at the young girl, and sighed. "Dr. Walden, get the anaesthesia. Nurse Oliver get the equipment; Ernest is right; this baby has to be born now."

There was hurry for equipment and medicine and injections all across the room, the ward, floor and Hospital. Though Doctor Carter was much more experienced with labour than Lydia, Lily and Ernest, he himself couldn't avoid the signs of Lydia's poor state. Her health was not critical, but she was not safe, just yet.

As Lydia's Birthing Partner, Lily gained the luxury of wearing a long, white overcoat and gaining privilege of Lydia's birth take place. Lydia was injected with two serums - one blocked out the pain and the other put her in a semi-comatose state for the operation. Once she was fully under, Doctor Carter and his assistants performed the operation on Lydia, slicing her stomach open and retrieving the baby.

The whole scene made Lily feel nauseous. All the blood and intense, concerned faces sickened her, and she felt like a spectator along for the joy of watching this event take place. It was, by no means, a pleasant thing to watch take place, but the results of it were joyous; a screaming baby was extracted from Lydia's womb, and rushed to the side to be checked on and cleaned.

As the Doctor's prepared to fix Lydia back up, the other Doctors were performing various tests on the baby that took several long, agonizing minutes until, finally, Ernest arrived, carrying the baby in his arms, and moved to Lily.

"It's safe and healthy," Ernest whispered. "And it's a girl."

"A _girl_?" Lily repeated.

He nodded. "Do you want to hold her?"

Lily glanced at Lydia, who was out cold and clearly in no fit state to hold the baby. Remus was not admitted access to the room. It was better for Lily to hold her than for the stranger who was Ernest, so Lily took the calm baby in her arms and stared down at her.

She was so tiny, Lily noted. Much smaller than Harry had been when she had given birth to him. She held her in her arms and planted a kiss on her small nose. The girl's hair was thin and light, and her eyes the common blue. She was small and fragile, and wriggled around in Lily's arms. She was so beautiful, so precious, so _healthy_ against all the odds.

Lily was not focused on Lydia - who was still undergoing intense care. When Lily looked up, however, the Doctor's, Nurses and Midwives were all crowded round her in silence.

"It's not possible," Doctor Carter proclaimed.

"What does he mean?" Lily asked in a state of panic.

Ernest looked at her with deep, sorrow eyes and declared: "It means she's dead."

...

When Remus got the news of Lydia's death, there were no words to describe how he felt. His stomach felt empty and he felt sick. His throat dried up and his head began throbbing in pain and panic. He was shocked - completely and utterly shocked at the news. Heartbroken, devastated and _guilty_. Had he done this to her? But she had been fine before... He'd just spoken to her minutes before he was rushed out for her to have their baby... Was it all his fault?

"I'm so sorry," Ernest repeated. "I - I don't know what happened."

No one spoke. The two other men: James and Sirius, just exchanged looks from the opposite ends of the wall they were leaning on. It was fortunate that Remus was sat down, otherwise he would have collapsed from the shock.

Without anyone asking, Ernest told the men: "The baby is fine and healthy, however. Tests were performed and there are no signs of poor muscle development or weak bone structure. All previous worries have been cleared... I'm so sorry for your loss, Mr. Lupin... Mrs. Potter will be through with your daughter in a moment."

_Daughter_. Their child that would remind him - unconsciously - what he had done to Lydia. What he had put her through: forcing her to give birth to a monster. _Monster_. But when Lily - whom's eyes were filled with tears - brought his daughter through, she looked nothing like a monster.

"Here - Oh _Remus_," Lily wept. James was quick to her side and took the daughter off Lily, who broke down in front of Remus, throwing her arms around his neck. "I - I'm so sorry! We did everything - you owe your daughter's life to Ernest. If it wasn't for him, they would never have noticed the signs and - and... Oh it's just too horrible to say."

"Go on," Remus dared. "You can say it: you can say my Lydia's dead."

Ernest left the corridor, and Sirius edged closer. "Mate... I'm really sorry."

"_Sorry_? Sorry doesn't even half cover it. It's _my_ fault she's dead, Padfoot; I did this to her."

"No!" Lily cried. "No Remus, it was not your fault - it's no one's fault. Something like this it just - it just _happens_ and when it does, there's nothing that can be done about it."

"She's right Remus - I - I don't really know what to say to you."

"Yeah? Well try being in my position."

A silence passed the group, and the baby started to stir. When she did, the four heads turned to her, but Remus was quick to turn away. "Do you want to take her, Remus?"

"No," Remus said bluntly.

"You can't resent her for this," Sirius informed.

"I don't - I don't resent her."

"Then take her."

Remus complied and took the small baby in his arms. As he did, Lily let out a dry sniff and buried her head in her husband's shoulder. He put his arms around her but Remus paid no heed. His focus was only on the baby wrapped in pink blankets before him. She opened his eyes and looked up at him, and the eyes did not represent one of loathing: but one of love for the man holding her and compassion. She blew bubbles with the saliva in her mouth and smiled at him.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" Lily prompted.

Remus nodded. "Yes - yes she it." Tears rolled down his cheek, and he was quick to wipe them away. "I never wanted this to happen... Lily - wh - where is she?"

"She's been taken away. I wanted you to - you might have wanted to see her but they took her away so quickly. I'm so sorry Remus - I should have _done_ something."

"Nothing - there was nothing to be done."

And that was when Remus truly believed that nothing could be done to stop fate in the world. There was nothing that could have been done to save Lydia's life, just like there was nothing to be done about Remus' Lycanthropy. Remus bore a cursed life, and anyone he loved possessed the curse with him. First Lydia, and possibly now, his daughter? What had his daughter done in life to lose her mother, so quickly after being born? She'd done _nothing_, and there was nothing to be done.

* * *

**ON MY PROFILE YOU CAN VOTE WHAT REMUS SHOULD CALL HIS DAUGHTER SO GO AHEAD, AND WHAT THE POTTER'S SHOULD CALL THEIRS - GO VOTE!**


	9. Is My Greatest Gain

**A.N: **I want to say thank you to everyone who reviewed this chapter and everyone who voted in my poll! There's another one for you to go vote in so go and do it!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, but thanks to Malorie Blackman for the name idea. It makes studying your book for four months worth it! (Now on to Romeo and Juliet for me...)

**Previously:** Lily falls pregnant and after telling James not to tell anyone, within in the space of half an hour everyone seems to know. Sirius is reunitedwith an old flame and the duo hook up in an alleyway and Lydia goes into labour and after seven hours gives birth to a beautiful little girl and sadly dies in the process.

**Contact: **satansbowtie**dot**tumblr**dot**com - **replace dot with **.

_Enjoy =)_

* * *

It was understandable that Remus' home would be untidy; he just no longer had the motivation to tidy up after himself or his daughter. Even after almost two weeks, Remus still hadn't even chosen a name for his daughter, and on the day of Lydia's funeral, the name of their daughter was still a mystery to everyone.

He just couldn't find a name that suited his daughter. For the first three days, her name was Reah. For the days after that it was Saoirse, and after that, Remus stopped choosing names for her. He would let Lydia's family find a good name for her if they wanted to. Remus was past caring now.

Remus had accepted his Daughter a lot quicker than he had thought to begin with. He didn't resent her for what happened, but Remus loved her, and it was his job, as her Father, to protect her and keep her safe and look after her, but he wasn't doing a very good job if he was just sat motionless on the sofa all day, with a cup of coffee he would never drink, only rousing to tend to her needs. It was a horrid life, but it was a life Remus had learned he was stuck with for now on until he could get over this.

And, honestly, he never believed he would.

The day of Lydia's funeral had been the hardest for him so far. He woke late, but made little effort to speed up his actions, so by the time he was showered and dressed, there were only twenty more minutes until the funeral was due to start and he still had to dress his baby. She wore a black dress, courtesy of Lydia's sister Deborah, that barely fit her.

A few minutes to the funeral's beginning, Remus swaddled his baby and the pair apparated to the Church. People piled around, grieving, dressed in black and talking to one another. No one was really smiling, and it occurred to Remus how little of the people surrounding him he actually knew.

"Remus!"

It was Lydia's Mum, whom was still supposed to be in Tibet. She was a tall and thin lady with perceivable collar bones and her rib cage poking through her pale skin. She was a tight dress, long, black cardigan and sullen expression. She extended her arms to embrace both Remus and the baby - and gasped when she pulled back.

"Is this her? Is this my Granddaughter?"

Lydia's Mum - Evelyn - took his daughter from Remus' arms and cradled her. Evelyn looked a lot better with his daughter than Remus ever possibly could, and it shamed him so. She had cradled Lydia like this when she cried, and kissed her so as well. She looked down at the sleeping baby in admiration, and then smiled up at Remus.

"Does this little one have a name yet?" Evelyn inquired.

"I haven't thought of one," Remus admitted.

With a kiss on the baby's forehead, Evelyn declared: "Whatever name you choose will be perfect, Remus. I'm so sorry, Remus, we're all so sorry you had to go through this alone."

"It's fine," Remus dismissed. "It was going to be a surprise for you-"

"-It certainly was," came a surly voice behind Evelyn.

Unlike Evelyn, her husband was a big, beefy man with greying hair. He looked a considerable amount older than Evelyn, but in reality, they had both attended Hogwarts in the same year. Remus had met George Greengrass a numerous amount of times, and all the times that passed the two men disliked each other even more.

"No name for her yet? That's a bit shameful."

"-George," hissed Evelyn.

"I did have a name for her to begin with," Remus informed. "She was named Saoirse, which means 'freedom' in Irish."

"Don't want no Granddaughter with a foreign name."

"Well, it would be a good thing that I decided against the name Saoirse, wouldn't it then, George?"

George scowled at him, and Evelyn smiled, passing the baby back to Remus. "I think Saoirse is a _lovely_ name, Remus, and it would have suited her _very_ nicely."

"Nah it wouldn't."

Remus took his daughter back in her arms and held her tightly against him. Evelyn placed a gentle hand on Remus' forearm, and with a smile, told him: "Lydia's funeral is going to start a bit later than planned; the Vicar has been delayed, and won't be here for another ten minutes. We're going to wait inside, but you're more than welcome to stay out here and greet the others."

"I think I'm fine on my own, thanks."

"You'll be sat with us at the front," Evelyn told him.

"Will he?" George asked, clearly surprised.

"Yes," Evelyn smiled through gritted teeth. "Come on George, I'll show you where Remus is sitting." She put her hand on her husband's arm and led him away.

Remus wondered why a lovely woman, such as Evelyn, would marry a horrible one quite like George. As his daughter began to stir in his arms, he took her for a walk around the Church area, drawing attention to himself from the other arrivals.

He wasn't surprised; he was - despite the others telling him otherwise - the one who killed Lydia. It was he who impregnated her with the sperm of a monster. Though his daughter was not a Werewolf; it had been Full Moon eight days ago and she had not transformed, she was a vicious baby, draining Lydia of energy and nutrition she acquired. It was all his fault, if only he had been more careful and not so careless...

It would happen one day: his Lycanthropy would eventually end somebody's life, and he was ashamed that it was a beautiful, young woman with an entire future ahead of her. Remus would give anything to swap positions with Lydia, that he would be the one they were burying and not her. But it was cruel for him to think so; cruel to put Lydia through the torment and heartbreak he was suffering through all the time, but it was better to suffer, in this sense, than not suffer at all. He'd have given his life for Lydia and he'd give his life for his daughter right now. He would sacrifice anything for the safety of his daughter, the final reminder of Lydia's life, that she hadn't died for nothing.

However, someone else thought otherwise.

"You _bastard_ - what are you doing here?"

Clearly, Lydia's younger brother Isiah thought differently. He had inherited nearly every trait possible from his Father: he was rude, selfish, pretentious and lazy, but was not fat or beefy like his Father, however but the opposite, in fact. He was tall and muscular with jet black hair and a short stubble. He was quite handsome, well-dressed, but very bad-mannered.

"I'm here for Lydia's funeral."

"Don't act funny with me," Isiah spat, stopping in front of Remus. "It's your fault she's dead."

Remus bowed his head. "I know."

"You _know_?" Isiah repeated. "You _know you killed my sister_?"

"Yes."

His wife Persephone - who was as equally beautiful as her husband - took the baby (unwillingly) from Remus' arms. She made no effort to comfort her husband or to calm him down, and Remus could only guess that she agreed with him.

"You didn't deserve my sister; she was worth ten of you!"

"You don't think I know that?" Remus growled.

Close people around them started to stare, and capturing the attention from the others outside the Church, they too, began to watch the scene unfold in front of them.

"You don't seem too upset; waltzing round here like you knew Lydia."

"I did know her. I loved her. You're just angry-"

"-No, I'm _livid_," Isiah brutally corrected. "Get out of here Lupin, and don't show your face around here again."

"Isiah, please-"

"-DON'T speak my name," Isiah warned. "Now get out of here Lupin, otherwise I'll make you."

"You'll make me? Isiah, you're nothing but a bully. Go in the Church and calm down; Lydia wouldn't have wanted something like this happen at her funeral."

"You don't know a _damn_ about my sister - SO DON'T COME ROUND HER PRETENDING LIKE YOU DO!"

"I'm not leaving," Remus told him. "You - I can't leave her."

"Get out of here or I _will_ make you."

"You're going to have to make me then."

Remus could have predicted his next move, and it wasn't a verbal attack, but a physical one. Isiah drew back his arm and aimed a powerful blow at Remus mouth. He hit his mouth and chin, and Remus stumbled backwards, clutching his face. He felt tears begin to sting his eyes, and yet he didn't care about the pain; he liked the pain; pain made him feel human.

But someone had stood in, and no surprise, if there was ever a fight nearby, Sirius was always close by, ready to stand in and sure, enough, he did. It was almost momentarily, when Isiah made contact with Remus' face, Sirius barged forward and began pushing Isiah back.

"What do you think you're doing? This is a _funeral_ - not a boxing arena."

"Who the _fuck_ are you?" Isiah demanded.

"I should ask the same for you," Sirius spat. "You're not the Isiah Greengrass Lydia used to describe to me; she thought the world of you and here you go, punching the Father of her child at her funeral. She'd be so ashamed of you right now."

"You don't know the last thing about my sister!"

"I know that she wouldn't want her pretentious brother causing a scene at her funeral."

Isiah then aimed a swing at Sirius, but Sirius was quick enough to duck and aim a blow at Isiah chest. He staggered backwards, gasping for breath and lunged at Sirius, knocking him to the ground. The two men punched each other, kicked each other and yelled at each other on the floor, rolling around on the muddy grass. Eventually, James stood in and heaved a bloody Sirius off an even bloodier Isiah.

"Get out," Isiah ordered, spitting blood on the floor. "All of you get out."

Remus looked like he was going to retaliate, but one moment later he was soaring through the air and landed in the Potter's front room. It was Lily - shaking uncontrollably with Remus' baby in her arms - who lead them there. Sirius was still crouched on the floor with James leaning over to him. Remus looked in horror around him and turned to Lily.

"Take me back."

"I - I can't. Remus, you weren't ready for this-"

"-I have to say goodbye!"

"You already have!" James informed. "You two need to get some ice for your cuts - go to the freezer and get some, then we'll sit down and discuss this like adults, and _not_ immature five-year-olds like Sirius clearly thought we are."

He heaved his best friend up and Sirius fell on the sofa. Remus sat beside him and summoning two packs of ice, James tossed one to both Sirius and Remus. Lily sat on the armchair with the baby in her arms. She was asleep, and had missed the big commotion.

Remus looked around the Potter's home. There were pictures on the wall, on the tables and on the mantle piece of each of the Potter's. A lot of them were devoted to Harry and several to Lily and James' wedding or after Harry's birth. Remus' home would never have smiling pictures of he and Lydia together anymore or the three of them as a family. It would always be he and his child together. He didn't even have a photograph of Lydia and their daughter because Lydia didn't even have the opportunity to hold the daughter she grew in her womb for nine months, and suffered for.

"It isn't fair," Remus moaned.

"What isn't?" James inquired.

"This!" Remus exclaimed. "You and Lily and Harry and your new baby: the perfect family, the 'perfect life'."

"Our life is hardly perfect, Remus," James reminded.

"We had to defy Voldemort four times to be like we are today," Lily included.

"But at least none of you are dead," Remus retaliated. "At least you're not going to die giving birth to that baby."

"That's a horrid thing to accuse!" Lily proclaimed. "And - and you don't know that: anything could happen."

"Not to you, because you're perfect Lily Evans: Prefect, Head Girl and top of the class, married to the perfect _James_ Potter who was Head Boy and Quidditch captain five years running, with the perfect son who defeated Voldemort by his mere existence, and what do I have? Oh, I was Prefect for two years and had _decent_ grades. My girlfriend died giving birth to a baby I don't even have the nerve to name. Aren't I the lucky one?"

Silence spread the room, and it was Sirius who spoke up. "And what do I have, Remus? I have no child and I've never had a long lasting girlfriend."

"But mate-"

"-What? Do you think some girl's just going to turn up on my doorstep with my son and we'll live happily ever after? Life doesn't work like that, Remus; we all have to make sacrifices. I was beaten by my Father since the age of four and hated by my entire family from the age of eleven. At least your parents _loved_ you and you later found someone who loved you back. Yeah, it's tragic Lyds died - don't get me wrong, but you get a beautiful daughter out of all of it, and what do I get out of my life? Meaningless sex after meaningless sex, empty bottles of beer in my bin and cigarette burns on the sofa. We both have pretty shitty lives, Remus, so don't think _you're_ the only one who suffers."

He was right. Remus hated to admit it, but Sirius was right. As if it had all fit into place – as if it was the right time and place to ask, as if it had been staring Remus in the face forever, he turned to Sirius and asked him: "Sirius, will you be my Daughter's Godfather?"

Sirius gave a little smile, and clapped Remus on the shoulder. "I would be honoured."

"Ha - Have you thought of a name for her yet?" Lily asked meekly. "I – I think you need one soon."

Remus stood up and took his Daughter from Lily's arms. He stood by the roaring fire, cradling his kin and nodded. "Yeah - Yeah thanks to today I've thought of a name for her. I think I'm going to call her Lydia."

"Lydia?" James echoed. "Won't that be a bit... _Hard_ for you?"

"To begin with," Remus agreed. "But I think it's right."

"No," Lily whispered. "No, Remus, you should give her a name you won't get upset by saying. What did you and Lydia discuss?"

"But Lily, I want to call her Lydia."

"She has a point," Sirius interjected. "I think you should think of some other names; you liked Reah."

"But I preferred Saoirse."

"Then call her Saoirse."

"But I prefer Lydia."

"Don't call her Lydia," James advised. "Give her a name _Lydia_ would have wanted to call her. What did the two of you discuss?"

"We both agreed on Alice, but I don't like that. Lydia liked Monica."

"Monica's a lovely name," Lily smiled.

"-But I don't like Monica," Remus sighed, and moved to sit back next to Sirius. "What do you think I should call her, Sirius? What name do you like?"

"Marlene," said James and Sirius in unison.

"Don't - don't even _go_ there," James counselled.

Sirius stared off into space, and Remus ignore the two men. "I like Allison."

"Allison is lovely," Lily agreed.

"But Lydia hated it... Lydia really liked the name Callie."

"_Callie_," James began. "Is a _very_ good name for your daughter."

Remus looked down at her. "I think Callie's a good name," he agreed. "It was Lydia's favourite."

"Then call her Callie."

He considered it. His daughter with the dark green eyes opened them, and blinked at him. He smiled and stroked the top of her head with his two index fingers. "Okay, I'm going to call her Callie - but I'm going to give her the middle name Lydia."

"Callie Lydia Lupin," James smiled.

"It fits," Lily beamed.

"Like a glove!"

...

The best day for Remus was also one of the saddest. It was early November, Callie was two months old and it was her Christening. Remus didn't want Callie to be christened - he was almost completely against the idea, in fact, but Lydia had been christened and her family wanted Callie to be done, as well. Remus obliged, eventually, to the delight of the Greengrass', and Lydia's elder sister Deborah (who could not have children of her own) was chosen as Godmother and Sirius as Godfather.

Callie wore a lovely white gown - again, courtesy of Deborah - and Remus, a similar set of dress robes he wore for the beginning of Lydia's funeral. He was sat at the front of the church with Callie in his arms, rocking her to and fro in her arms to keep her calm.

She rarely cried, did Callie, and hardly ever woke up in the night to be fed or changed. She was a good girl, Remus knew, and was still very small for her age. She had thin tufts of brown hair, olive green eyes and pale complexion. She still looked newborn instead of three months. Everybody said that she looked like Remus, but Remus suspected they were only saying that out of sympathy. In fact, Callie looked completely the opposite of Remus; she didn't have multiple scars on her face and she wasn't in her twenties, her eyes weren't grey and her hair blonde. It was out of kindness they said it.

The Church where she was to be Christened was different to the one Lydia's funeral was held in. Remus had seen every member of Lydia's family apart from Isiah since the funeral, and in a way, Remus was pleased Isiah wasn't present and was avoiding him. Remus didn't want to see the man who banished him and his child from the funeral. If Remus wasn't allowed in the Funeral, Isiah wasn't allowed at the Christening.

Which was exactly what Remus thought, as he sat at the front of the Church with Deborah by his side, when he saw Isiah walking down the aisle.

"Take Callie," Remus demanded.

"Remus, _no_," hissed Deborah, grabbing the younger man's arm. "No don't start a scene in here."

Remus ignored her and marched straight to Isiah. When Isiah saw him, he let out a sigh. "Get out," Remus hissed. "I don't want you here."

"Give me a chance to explain-"

"-_No_," Remus spat. "You never gave me the chance to explain, so why should I let you? I don't want Callie's day being ruined by her foul Uncle."

"I want to apologise," Isiah asserted.

"Bit late for that," observed the other.

Isiah hung his head, almost in shame. "It was wrong of me to order you to leave Lydia's funeral, and I was out of order for what I said to you and hitting your friend. You had every right to be there, and I regret not letting Cal be present-"

"_Cal_?" Remus echoed.

"Callie-"

"Her name is not _Cal_."

"It's a nickname, Remus - come on-" Isiah extended his hand to touch Remus, but he pushed it away. "I'm sorry, I know why you'd be angry at me: payback, right? I deserve it. But please don't make me leave; Callie's my niece-"

"And Lydia's Daughter, and you kicked the two of us out her funeral!"

"I know," Isiah admitted. "I know and I'm sorry for that. Please, can we give this another chance? I don't want there to be bad blood between the two of us. Can't it just be water under the bridge now? For Callie's sake..."

"Don't you _dare_ use my daughter as emotional blackmail."

"That wasn't what I meant - come on, Remus, please?"

He wasn't in the mood for an argument, and he did not want to ruin Callie's day. It was her day, after all, a moment that was meant to be happy for the Greengrass', the two Lupin's and the other friends that came along to watch. Why should he ruin it? If he banned Isiah and Persephone from the Christening like they had banned he and Callie, he was no better than them. Remus did not want to be so spiteful and malicious he would ban Callie's own Uncle from the Christening - Merlin knew Remus might have to call in a favour from Isiah one day. So Remus made his decision.

"Fine, you can stay," Remus relented.

Isiah looked almost relieved and held out his hand. "For Lydia?"

Remus eyed it sceptically, as if curious whether to take it or not. He did so, anyway, and the men called a truce. Remus said no other word to Isiah afterwards and returned to Deborah and Callie at the front of the Church. Isiah, however, sat a few pews behind his family.

"Well done," Deborah smiled, returning Callie to Remus.

"I did it for Lydia."

Deborah smiled, and patted Remus' hand. "We all miss her, you know?"

"I know," Remus replied.

"She loved you so much; she talked about you constantly to me. She knew just how great of a Father you would be... I so regret not being with her when she died, you know? I never was a good sister to her when we were growing up; I let her do what she wanted to do in Hogwarts because she _embarrassed_ herself and she was always better than I. Smarter, prettier and attracted more of the attention. I thought she was so moronic for choosing Ravenclaw over Slytherin, but now I see she made the right decision."

"That's Lydia for you: always impulsive."

"She was there for me when no one else was," Deborah recalled. "She - she caught me kissing my girlfriend when I was nineteen and she was so _supportive_ - much more supportive than I thought she would have been. She listened to me and consoled me - she almost stopped Dad knocking ten bells out of me... She was such a loving girl at heart; it wasn't fair she should have been taken so young."

"Yeah, but a lot of things happen to those who are young," Remus sighed.

"Like?"

Remus gestured to the baby. "Callie, of course."

"Oh," said Deborah sheepishly. "She looks so much like her, doesn't she?"

He nodded. "Yeah, yeah she does."

"She'd have been a wonderful Mum."

"Better parent than I'll ever be."

"Don't say that."

"Why not? Lydia knew what she was doing; she read the books and she made all the plans. She's Callie's Mother, she'd have been able to talk to her about _girl_ things - stuff she wouldn't talk to me about... But who has she got now?"

"Me?" Deborah suggested. "I'll be there for her during those times. And she's got her Grandma and Lily over there."

"That's not the same."

"Of course it's not," she agreed, and then smiled at her Niece. "She is going to be such a remarkable Witch, just like you and her Mother."

Deborah was ruining Remus' mood, and he was relieved when the Vicar arrived to begin Callie's Christening. He carried Callie up to the front of the Church with her Godparents: Deborah and Sirius standing either side of the basin and the Christening began.

...

The after-party for the Christening was held at George and Evelyn's home in Manchester. It was a reasonable sized home with a spacious back garden which came in useful for holding the ceremony. They were under a magically assembled gazebo they created because of the poor weather. They were able to construct it in five minutes, making it impermeable and nice and warm. It was snug, and the thirty or so guests were all able to move around swiftly and easily.

Callie was of course, centre of attention, and Remus barely got a moment to himself. Eventually, he handed Callie over to Deborah who enjoyed the attention paid to her and Remus got to earn his well-deserved break. He moved straight over to the drinks table, poured himself a glass of punch and moved over to James, Sirius and a barely showing three month pregnant Lily, who were laughing off to the side.

They welcomed Remus warmly. "Callie looks so beautiful," Lily gushed when she hugged Remus. "Like a Princess!"

"Next time you'll be in a Church it will be for her Wedding," James reminded.

Remus shot him a glance. "Not under my watch it won't."

"Could be marrying James and Lily's bundle of joy," Sirius grinned.

"If it's a boy," James agreed.

"Our children can marry who they want," said Lily. "I'll have no objections to whoever Harry chooses for a wife."

"Unless it's a Slytherin," Sirius cringed.

"_Even_ if it's a Slytherin," Lily frowned.

"There's nothing wrong with Slytherin's," Remus informed. "Deborah over there's a Slytherin. So is Isiah."

"Isiah's a dick though," grumbled Sirius.

"True," Remus agreed. "But he's Callie's Uncle and we're stuck with him."

"You shouldn't have let him come today," James informed.

"He's Callie's Uncle," Remus reminded. "He has every right."

Sirius scoffed. "Just like _you_ had every right to be at Lyds' funeral! I have a right mind to give him a matching black eye right now..."

"Don't," Remus warned. "Don't do it Padfoot."

Remus' well-earned break was cut short. He was approached by two people: Lydia's parents Evelyn and George. They pulled Remus to the side and Evelyn wore a grave face. George, however, was completely disinterested in this and was staring down into his glass of beer, swirling it around in his glass.

"We have something we've been meaning to tell you Remus, haven't we George?" Evelyn prompted.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. You tell him Evelyn."

Evelyn glanced at her husband, then returned to Remus. "We're moving to Tibet."

"_What_?" Remus asked.

"We're moving to Tibet," Evelyn reiterated sweetly.

"I heard you - but why would anyone want to move to Tibet?"

She reached out and gingerly stroked Remus' arm. "Lydia's death has been hard on us, and we can't live in our house any longer; there are too many painful memories in there."

"Then move down a street - not half way across the world."

"We knew you'd react like this," Evelyn predicted. "But we want to be where we were before this all began: our last happy memory."

"You can't expect to forget about Lydia, just by moving to Asia."

"How could we forget her?" George grunted. "She's our kid."

"We could never forget Lydia, Remus. Merlin knows she'll haunt my dreams for the rest of my life, but we want a fresh start: a new beginning. You and Callie are always more than welcome to visit us once we're settled in. We don't want to lose contact with you, Remus; you're family now."

If Remus had the chance to wipe the slate clean and start a new life with Callie, he'd cease it with both hands. It was impractical, for him, to do so; Callie was three months old and he had to support her. Everyone that he loved was in London, and even moving to Newcastle or Nottingham would affect his life a great deal. It must have been a hard decision for them to move to another continent, and they must have thought it was a good idea otherwise they wouldn't have done it. He'd have to respect their decision - it wasn't like them moving made much of an impact to him, anyway; he had lived his whole life without Evelyn and George, and he was sure he could live the rest of it without them, also.

"Then good luck to you," Remus wished. "Of course we'll come and visit." Evelyn's old face broke out into a smile, and she extended her slender arms and pulled Remus into a hug. He accepted it, patting her warmly on the back when she kissed him on the cheek. "When do you leave?" He asked.

"January tenth - not for a long time yet," Evelyn told him. "Our home is _lovely_ there - it overlooks the Tibetan mountains and-"

"-You don't need to make excuses to me; I'm happy for you. Honest. I think it will be good for Callie to grow up with multi-cultural Grandparents."

Evelyn seemed to be on the verge of tears, but grabbed her handkerchief and hastily dabbed her eyes. "I - I'm so pleased to hear you say that! Isiah and Persephone didn't take the news too well, I - I don't think they're going to take Astoria and Daphne to come and see us!"

"'Course they will," George grumbled. "I'll talk some sense into that boy; you mark my words Evelyn dear."

She smiled at the two men. "I'm so pleased Lydia met someone as lovely as you, Remus; you're such a credit to us all."

"I'm really not," Remus denied.

"Yes you are," Evelyn countered. "It's clear to anyone now just why Lydia fell in love with you. Come here you!" She pulled Remus into another tight hug and kissed both his cheeks, staining Remus' cheeks with her pale pink lipstick. Like a Mother would, she licked her finger in attempt to wipe the lipstick off Remus' cheek. The werewolf laughed and did it herself, causing Evelyn to laugh at him and embrace him once more. "We're all so lucky to have you in our lives now - and you ought to know George and I were not at all happy with Isiah for not letting you and Lydia's friends into her funeral. You were the better man and let him come to Callie's Christening though, and I'm so _proud_ of you for that!"

Remus only smiled modestly. "It's fine Evelyn - water under the bridge now. Isiah was upset, that's understandable."

"Shouldn't have done it," George opinionated. "Your friend was right for knocking him one, was going to do the same until our Deborah stopped me... Thanks for letting her be Godmother Remus; means a lot more to her than she's letting on."

"I'm sure it does," Remus said, "and she deserves it."

"You're such a lovely boy, Remus. So loving, so caring and understanding. Callie's so lucky to have a wonderful Father just like you."

Remus knew she would be luckier if she had her Mother around as well, but it was not a good idea to mention that to Evelyn, Remus knew. He couldn't just forget about Lydia, but to put her in the back of his mind and devote his time to Callie was the best thing he could do now. Be her Father.


	10. The Marlene Thing

The months slipped by yet the days still seemed to drag for everyone. Before they knew it, Christmas had passed and the New Year commenced. Life seemed to go on per usual. Remus started back at work in January, leaving Callie in the capable hands of James and Lily, who did not plan on working until after their baby had been born. By May, that time had come, and Remus got a frantic floo message at work from James, telling him that he had to get to the Hospital instantly.

Remus did not go to the Hospital when the message arrived, but instead went straight to the Potter's home. James and Lily had stayed at home longer than planned - clearly because they realized their lack of childcare, and were automatically relieved when Remus arrived at their home.

He did not want to go to Hospital, because they brought up nothing but bad memories for him: he visited Hospitals every week when he was a young child; his Mother had died in one and so had his Father and Lydia and nearly Callie. He couldn't bear to be with Lily and James while they were having the baby, which was why he offered to stay at home and look after Harry and Callie while they went to have the baby.

"Are you sure?" James asked, tying his shoes.

Remus nodded. "Absolutely - now you two get to the Hospital quickly and have your baby! Floo me as soon as it's over and I'll bring round Harry."

"Remus, are you _sure_ you don't want to come?" Lily asked. Lily was not in as much pain as Lydia had been when she gave birth; her contractions and pain obviously was not as bad. She still looked calm and collected, the only difference being her cheeks flushed red and a look of concern on her face. "You can look after Harry and Callie in the corridor - the Hospital doesn't mind..."

"They'll be bored there," Remus reasoned. "Now go! And best of luck to you both."

Lily waddled over to Remus and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you for this - we'll try not to be too long."

"You don't really get much of a say in this - now _go_ before I change my mind."

James smiled at him. "Thanks mate, this really means a lot to us."

With a flash of light they were gone, and Remus was promptly joined by two-year-old Harry, bounding into the Living Room, followed by eight month Callie, who was crawling very slowly after him.

"Where's Mummy and Daddy?" Harry asked.

"They've having their baby," Remus answered nonchalantly.

"_Really_?" Remus nodded. "Can I go?"

"Later," Remus dismissed. "Why don't you draw a picture for Mummy and Daddy when they get back?" Harry was three-years-old in three months, but had already developed as quickly as a three-year-old would. The young boy nodded, and with a click of his fingers, parchment and pens were summoned to him. Remus blinked at him. "How on _earth_ were you able to do that?"

Harry clicked his fingers again. "Magic!"

It was advanced magic - _especially_ for a two-year-old. Magic didn't normally show in children until they were five or six, not two. Then again, Harry was a very advanced young boy when it came to magic, and he was a Potter; he learned things quickly.

"Have Mummy and Daddy seen?"

"Daddy, not Mummy."

"What did Daddy say?"

"Not to tell Mummy?"

Remus didn't doubt that, and joined Harry and his daughter on the floor. Callie crawled towards Remus, and he pulled her onto his lap. She was still small but with almost a full head of brown hair. She giggled and wriggled in Remus' grasp, clapping her hands towards Harry.

"Am I having brother or sister?"

"I don't know Harry," Remus answered. "What do you want?"

"Brother; girls are silly." As if Callie could somehow comprehend him, she let out a low whine. "Not you Cal; you're special."

In return, she made a high-pitched accepting noise. Remus was amazed at how well the two young children connected and bonded with one another. Callie was still shuffling around in Remus' embrace, and pulled her whole body around so she was staring up at Remus. Her face broke out into a smile upon seeing him. She outstretched her hand and placed it on Remus' nose.

"Dada."

His heart almost stopped. Those were her first words. He started to laugh, and kissed Callie on the top of the head to praise her. "That's right! Dada! I'm Dada!" Remus congratulated. "Harry? Did you hear that? Callie just said her first words."

Harry was too enthralled in his drawing to notice, while Callie, however, the praise from her first words were all she was interested in. She began tapping on various parts of Remus' upper body and laughing, making various noises that could be interpreted as 'Dada' by her, but just a mixture of joyous sounds by Remus.

...

After being in labour only four hours, the lucky couple: James and Lily, were blessed with a beautiful baby boy. He was dark haired with light eyes, and already bore a slight resemblance to his Father. He was an easy birth; there were no complications and he was healthy: sure to live a long and successful life.

Lily was still exhausted after the pregnancy. Her red fringe stuck to the sweat on her forehead and her Hospital gown was in a mess. She didn't care much, though; she had just given birth to the most beautiful baby boy in the world, and there wasn't a prouder Mother on the Earth.

When Sirius received the honour of holding the youngest Potter child, he was eager to know what his name would be.

"Thomas," replied James confidently.

"_Thomas_?" Sirius repeated. "Thomas Potter?"

"Thomas Potter," Lily confirmed.

Sirius almost seemed to grimace at the concept of the child being called Thomas. "He doesn't look much like a Thomas."

"What _does_ he look like, then?"

"A baby?" Sirius recommended. "Hmh... He looks like a Jack. Jack is a good name for him."

"Jack?" Lily reiterated. "Jack Potter?"

"Not so much," Sirius corrected. "A 'J' though, like James. What about Joshua? Or Joseph?"

"We discussed Joshua," James admitted. "But we preferred Thomas."

"Or Oliver," Lily added.

"Oliver's better than Thomas."

"And George."

"Oliver's better than George.

"A 'J' or an 'L' will be cute," Lily swooned. "What about... Jacob?"

"Jacob," James mused. "Yeah, I like Jacob. Jacob Potter, it has a nice tone. W do you think, Siriis? Is Jacob the right name for our son?"

"I approve," Sirius said, "Jacob _what_ Potter?"

"We might not go for a middle name," Lily informed.

"Don't tease him, Lily," James scolded. "I suggested giving him the middle name Sirius."

Sirius was astounded, and almost dropped Jacob when he heard the news. Lily, realizing that, promptly took James off the elder man and locked him in her arms again. "Do - do you really mean that?"

"Of course," James smiled. "And we'll make Remus Jacob's Godfather."

Sirius almost took a double take. "That - that's such an honour. If I ever have children-"

"-I'll know it's the apocalypse," Lily smirked. He might have taken slight offence, but the shock of having a child named after him took him back. He had Harry as his Godson and Jacob named after him. He hadn't given James and Lily anything back, so what had he done to deserve this? When he asked Lily that question, she responded: "When we were in the coma for forty days, you looked after Harry for us, and you can never understand how grateful we are for that... I think this is the least we can do to repay you."

"That's - that's all I did?" Sirius asked, confused.

"As well as pledge an oath to save our lives," James added. "You've always been there for Lily, Harry and I, and because you're out best friend, this is just our way of saying thank you."

"I should be the one saying thank you," Sirius corrected.

James shook his head. "You've done enough, and I feel like I really owe you one."

"Owe him one?"

Of course, Lily would be none the wiser on what had happened just three months before the attack. Only he and James knew the full details, and it was a story Sirius was sure would haunt him for the rest of his living days: it was the day Marlene was killed.

There was a raging battle taking place at the time of Marlene's death, and it was also the time James and Lily defied Voldemort for the second time. Sirius was fighting an unknown Death Eater and behind him was Marlene. They were protecting each other's backs, and it was at that moment, Sirius realized just how much he loved that woman: he was willing to risk his life for her, and she was willing to do the same thing and trust him. They trusted each other immensely, they put the fate of their lives in the other's hand.

Marlene McKinnon was such a tremendous Witch, so talented that she defeated her Death Eater before Sirius did. The first thing she did was turn around to help Sirius vanquish the Death Eater before him, but for some reason, he didn't want her help.

"Go help someone else," Sirius demanded. "I'm doing fine on my own."

"Clearly," Marlene scoffed. "Come on Sirius; put a bit of effort into it."

Sirius hissed, "fuck off – I can – do this – myself."

Marlene stopped fighting. "Fine. Be like that, I was only offering my help."

"Well I don't need you."

It was then the fighting couple let their guard down, and it was then the Death Eater struck. Both Sirius and Marlene were caught off guard by the next hit. Marlene sensed it before Sirius, and if he had sensed it before she, perhaps things would have turned out differently. Marlene watched the Death Eater raise his wand towards Sirius, and in that moment, Marlene reacted.

"NO!"

She threw herself across Sirius' body, shielding him with her arms out wide. Before Sirius could grasp what was happening, a bright burst of green light shot out of from the opponent's wand, hitting Marlene square in the chest. She was facing Sirius at that time, and the last thing the woman saw were Sirius' grey eyes gazing into hers with love, watching the life drain out of them. The grey eyes she had trusted herself to forgive, forget and put faith in once more. He was responsible for her life just seconds ago, and now he had to watch that fail.

Her legs gave way but Sirius caught her under the arms. The war around him stopped and it was just him clutching Marlene McKinnon's dead body.

"No," Sirius murmured. "No Marlene, I'm sorry, I was only kidding; I do need you."

"Sirius."

"Marlene, stop fucking around... just... just get up. Please, for the love of Merlin get up. Please Marley, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry."

"Sirius."

Sirius felt a hand on his shoulder, trying to pull him away from the young girl's body, but alas, no force in the world could have made him release her from his arms. In his arms was one of the few people Sirius was sure he loved, and now there she was: dead.

"Come on Padfoot, we need to go."

"No," Sirius spat, the first tears rolling out his eyes. "I killed her James, I killed her."

"No you didn't, Padfoot – we need to leave now."

"She – she trusted me and – THAT SON OF A BITCH KILLED HER. He should have killed me, it shouldn't have been her, it should never be her."

It took James a few minutes to pull Sirius from Marlene's grasp, but by throwing his arms around his body, he managed to heave him up, Marlene's corpse still on the cold, wooden floor.

"We need to go before they come back," James hissed. "We shouldn't have stayed this long; Moody and Albus warned us not to."

"And if we had just listened to them Marlene wouldn't have been killed."

"No," James whispered. "No this isn't our fault. You need to get out of here now."

"I can't leave her!" Sirius cried. "Would you leave Lily?"

"This is completely different Padfoot-"

"-Would you leave Lily?"

James didn't answer for a moment. "No, no I wouldn't."

"What if the Death Eater's come and get her body? What if they do terrible, terrible things to it?"

"We have to go; they'll know we stayed. Take her body and hide it somewhere then."

"I'm taking it with me."

"No you're not," James growled. "Either come with me now or we'll be dead!"

"I'd rather be dead. I'd rather die in her arms, beside her than die in a bloody battle on my own. You can go, but I'm staying with Marlene."

"I'm not leaving you here! Come on Sirius, we have to go!"

James tried to pull Sirius up again, but Sirius knocked James down. With a scowl, James got out his wand and pulled Sirius away from Marlene.

"I'm sorry mate, but it's for your own good."

The two twenty-one-year-old men apparated from the scene and landed in Sirius' front room. When Sirius realized where they were, he launched himself at James, knocking him to the ground and straddled him.

"YOU BASTARD – YOU NEED TO TAKE ME BACK!"

"I can't," James cried. "I'm sorry."

Sirius stared at the face of his best friend who, at that point, Sirius was sure had betrayed him. He was ready to punch him, take out his anger on James but James had just saved his live. Sirius understood, that if James hadn't got him out of there and the Death Eaters had arrived, Sirius would have died and Marlene's death be for nothing. Instead, Sirius crawled off James and collapsed against the sofa, crying into his hands and shouting profanities at everyone and everything. James tried to be a supportive best friend, but there were no words to sympathise with the feeling of losing the person you love most in the world, and James prayed to Merlin, that night, that he would never experience what Sirius had gone through that day.

That was why James always thought he would owe Sirius, because he separated him from his love. James remembered the days Sirius and Marlene would 'casually date' in Hogwarts, and those days and nights he spent with her he had never been more happy. James couldn't imagine a life without Lily, and what Sirius had been put through was _heartbreaking_. It was impossible for James to imagine life without Lily, and without Harry and now, Jacob. It was completely ludicrous to imagine life without them, because a life without his family was a life not worth living.

...

Remus went to the Hospital to visit Lily the second night she was in there. Sirius was minding Callie for him, and that gave Remus a fine opportunity to visit his new Godson and best friends, who had been blessed with a second son.

"They're going to go to school together these two," James said with a grin. "Both going to be Gryffindor's – both of them causing havoc in the classrooms and with their Professor's."

"Callie's going to study hard for me in school," Remus stated. "Jacob on the other hand... Well, he's got your genes, hasn't he James? He's likely to be a mischievous little Gryffindor, causing havoc in the classrooms and with his Professor's."

"It would be so sweet if they got married," Lily gushed. "Then we'd be a proper family."

"I think me putting up with James for _my_ life is bad enough, let alone making Callie suffer with your son."

"Cheers," said James.

"You know I'm joking, Prongs, you're like a brother to me and Lily, you're like a sister. I honestly don't know where I'd be without you both."

"Don't," James said, "you don't have to thank us."

"Are you serious? I don't know where I'd be without you! I – If it wasn't for you giving me your money, James, I would have been living on the _street_."

Lily shook her head. "No you wouldn't; you would be living with us."

"If you'd _died_ though no one would have given me money!"

"Sirius would," James reminded.

"No," Remus differed. "No if the two of you died Sirius would blame it on me. I _know_ you all thought I was the traitor – no, you don't have to apologise, Lily."

Lily began stammering. "Remus, I am so sorry."

"Don't," he insisted. "But I'd probably be homeless without your kindness. All you've done for me and Callie over the past few months has been _tremendous_ and I can't thank you enough. Anything you ever need, I'll do it. I – I'll baby sit Harry and Jacob for you whenever you want – I'll even buy Harry his first drink in the Leaky Cauldron when he's seventeen – Jacob too for that matter. I just want you both to know how _thankful_ I am for all the help you've given me these past three years; it's really meant a lot." Lily leaned over and hugged Remus. "I will pay you back – I promise that I shall."

"No you won't," James insisted. "Just don't count on us buying Callie a drink for _her _seventeenth; she's not drinking. Not _ever_."

Remus laughed when Lily released him. "I agree with you on that. She's not leaving home until she's thirty."

James chuckled and ran a hand through his untidy hair. "Goodness can you imagine that? Callie and Jacob being _thirty_? We're not even thirty yet and think of everything that we've done."

"Most of it revolved around Voldemort," Lily reminded. "Remus – can I take Jacob off you?" Remus accepted and Lily kissed the crown of Jacob's head. "And he is _never_ coming back, so you are going to be safe my little Darling, safe and sound. Leave your Daddy to fight off the big, bad and scary men."

"And that's just your Uncle Sirius," Remus stated. "Speaking of Sirius, I think I'll go and relieve him of babysitting."

He kissed Lily on the cheek and clapped James on the arm. Once he was gone, James turned to Lily. "I hope to Merlin I never go through what that poor sod has."

"I hope Callie doesn't either," Lily agreed. "Poor girl – oh I do feel sorry for her. This just isn't fair."

"There's nothing that can be done about it now," James remarked. He too, kissed Lily, but he kissed his wife on the lips. "I'll put Jake in the cot, and you get some sleep."

"Who?" Lily asked.

"Jake, our baby."

"I remember his name being Jacob, never Jake."

James laughed. "Jake is just short for Jacob."

"If I wanted to call my son Jake, I would have written on his birth certificate _Jake Sirius Potter_, not _Jacob Sirius Potter_. His name is Jacob, not Jake."

James laughed and when he took Jacob from Lily, he kissed her on the lips. "Whatever you say my Darling. You blessed me with a son. If you want to call him Ermentrude I wouldn't care – and Elvendork I certainly would not care."

James went to put Jacob in his cot, and then he rejoined Lily by her bed. She settled down on the uncomfortable mattress and rested her eyes. "Giving birth to him was really hard. James, I don't think I want to go through with it again."

He frowned. "Never again?"

"Never again," she confirmed. She opened her eyes again, and sat back up. "I know we planned on having loads of kids, but giving birth _hurts_, James. I'd love to have a massive family as much as you do – I'd love to have a daughter with you, but it's too _exhausting_."

"Okay," James smiled and kissed Lily on the head. "I can't say that I'm not disappointed, because I am, but it's your decision. I don't mind; we're lucky with Harry and Jacob as it is. I love you, and if you're definite about not having any more babies, I'll get a vasectomy."

Lily laughed. "You don't need to do that – and do you even know what one really is?"

"Of course; there was a leaflet about it that I was reading when I was on the toilet earlier on when Remus got here. It stops you from producing babies, right?"

"Something like that," Lily said, "you don't have to get one, but thank you for offering. You never know, I might change my mind."

"Will you though?" James suspected.

"Ask me again in three years time," she proclaimed. "And we'll see if I've changed my mind."

James' suspicion was right; three years later, Lily never did agree to having children, but then again, when Lily brought it up, neither did James.


	11. Son and Daughter

It was brisk in October already and the red leaves had fallen off the trees. Sirius thought it would be a good idea to walk to Diagon Alley from his flat. He had all the intention and motivation to just go to Gringotts and not stop off at The Leaky Cauldron, but once he entered the roasting warm pub, and Tom the Landlord held up an empty beer tankard, Sirius couldn't refuse and looked around the bustling bar for somewhere to sit.

If the bar was empty, Sirius' fate may have turned out a little different. If he had chosen to stand in the corner on his own, his life wouldn't have changed, but instead he went to sit with an old companion – a friendly face he recognized. But the friendly face was not alone; for the friendly face had, with her, a small child.

"Mind if I join you?" Sirius asked. Helena Rosier looked up at him shocked, and didn't have a chance to reply before Sirius slid into the booth with her, smiling at the baby. "This yours?" Helena nodded, dumbfounded. "He's a handsome one – it is a boy, isn't it?"

"Y-Yes."

"My friends' have just had two newborns – I don't know if I told you or you've heard: James and Lily? Well, you probably have. He's a real sweetheart – and Remus had one too. I _know_ I mentioned Remus and Callie to you – remember?" Sirius winked. "It's bloody cold out there, isn't it?"

Helena made no immediate response, and began stammering. "Wh – Where have you been?"

"Where have I been? _Where have I been_? You agreed twice that we were only going to have sex – you didn't change your mind and think I wanted a _relationship_ with you, did you? Because we both agreed that wasn't how we were going to be."

Something about her was different. She looked exactly the same – if not a little tired after taking care of a newborn, who Sirius was smiling at still. She still looked beautiful, in Sirius' opinion, still well presented with a frightening air of confidence about her. But that confidence, once with Sirius, had been destroyed.

"I – I tried writing to you."

"Why would you do that?"

"I came looking for you every day!"

Sirius frowned. "Someone's a bit possessive, aren't they? What would your boyfriend think?"

"I – I don't have a boyfriend."

"Husband?" She shook her head. "Then who's the baby's dad?"

She didn't answer, and instead tucked a strand of black hair behind her ear. "I have to go. I - I'm sorry."

She put on her coat and picked up the baby's chair, leaving Sirius watching her pack up in confusion. What was wrong with her and why wouldn't she talk to him? They had left on pretty good terms that night, one year ago... or at least he _thought_ they had... Had he said something wrong? Had he _done_ something wrong? She didn't even say goodbye when she left this time, and scurried out the pub in distress instead. Sirius took a sip of drink when he realised that Helena had left behind one of the baby's toys. He wondered if he should go and find her and return it, but she was in a hurry. But then he thought, what if the baby needs it? What if he can't sleep without it and Helena has sleepless nights all because her ex-sleeping partner was too lazy to return it? Sirius had yet to take his coat off, and clutching the fluffy bunny rabbit scrambled out onto the street after her.

He checked left and right once he got out onto the cold London street. Eventually he found Helena walking along the street with her long, dark red coat and chased after her. He caught up, holding onto her arm and panting, said: "You - left this."

She turned around. "Thank you."

The couple stared at each other on the street, Helena looking as if she wanted to say something. It seemed hard for her, whatever it was, so Sirius said: "Do you want to go and get some coffee?"

"No thank you."

"Do you want to come back to mine?"

"Sirius, I have a child."

"No - no not sex. You can just come round mine and we can... _talk_. I don't live very far away and you can take - what's your son's name?"

"Castor," she said.

"Good name," Sirius considered. "You and Castor can come to my flat - no doubt he's cold and you can warm him up a bottle of milk or whatever you feed a baby at what age he is."

"Four months," she croaked.

"Four months," he echoed. "Four months. Well, you can take Castor the four-month-old baby back to mine and warm him and a bottle up. Can I tempt you?"

She nodded. "Okay."

So Helena and Castor settled themselves at Sirius' flat. Castor was wide awake and alert but made no sound. Helena and Sirius sat on a sofa each, drinking a cup of coffee or in Sirius' case, tea. He wasn't sure why he invited Helena and her son up to his apartment, perhaps he felt sorry for them? Sorry for what, Sirius wondered, that her boyfriend left her, abandoning her with a young child? Sirius was curious and wanted to know how much of a dick this guy was for leaving them. He felt angry.

"So who's the Father?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Castor's Father? What dick abandoned you both?"

Helena put her coffee on the table. "Can we please not talk about that?

"I'm curious," Sirius reasoned. "And we're friends, aren't we?"

"_Friends_," Helena spat. "Friends don't have sex twice and never contact them again. Friends don't abandon other friends after sex when _anything_ could have happened to them. Friends look out for each other and their kids. Friends are there for each other."

"I didn't invite you here for a lecture, okay? I invited you here because I feel sorry for Caspar being out in a pub in the cold all alone!"

"_Castor_, his name is Castor!" She shrieked, and her eyes widened. "You know what? I don't need this. I don't need you in my life. Castor is _fine_ without you, he doesn't need you."

"Why would he need me?"

And then it dawned on Sirius, and he literally froze. Eleven months ago, he and Helena had sex - _protected_ sex... So how did it come to this? Had he known all along? Was this why he invited Castor and Helena up to his flat? He didn't even know himself. All he knew was, that _he_ was the dick who abandoned a woman and a baby. And that made him angry.

"Is Castor my son?" Sirius asked in a quiet voice.

Helena sighed and sat back down. "It's not your fault; it's not like I made the effort to find you, anyway."

"Is Castor my son?"

"Yes," she said, "yes he is."

Sirius felt an odd feeling in his body. He felt nervous. Before him, in a carrier cot was his unknown son. He felt his eyes draw towards him and eventually, his body. Helena seemed ready to say something, to warn him not to go near him, but she said nothing. Sirius clipped him out of the cot and held him in his arms, with a strange essence of paternity that he never possessed when holding Harry or Callie or Jacob.

And he liked it.

The baby boy was squirming in his arms, but laughing and smiling, something Sirius found himself doing in response. The baby's tufts of hair were dark brown and his eyes, Sirius regretted to say, were a shade closer to Helena's brown than they were to his grey. He was a beautiful boy, but what Sirius did notice that they had in common, was the same grin. That was something.

"I'm so sorry," Sirius whispered. "I should have been there."

"You weren't to know."

Sirius looked at Helena, and both of them saw tears in the other's eyes. "This may sound strange, but I think I love him."

"It's not strange."

"I should have been there for you."

"I've done it before."

"What?"

Helena shook her head. "I'll tell you soon."

Sirius sat down with Castor on his lap. He adored him instantly and didn't even know how his affections could appear so rapidly. He planted a kiss on his forehead. "Do you have money?"

"Plenty."

"For you _three_?"

"My other is not your concern."

"It is now," Sirius stated. "I want to be a part of Castor's life - and your life too, if you'll allow it."

"What are you implying?"

Sirius sniffed. "I don't want Castor feeling unloved like I was. I don't want him thinking that his conception was an unplanned, unwanted mistake. I want to be there for him, as a Father, by your side all the time. I want you to move in with me."

"That - that's a bit _sudden_."

"No," Sirius shook his head. "Yes - maybe, but I'm feeling impulsive. You ought to take me up on the offer while it still stands - while I'm still overjoyed at my son."

"There will be three of us. Castor, my daughter and I."

"I'll look after you all," Sirius promised. "Does your daughter have a Father?"

"Yes – but he's out of the picture; it's complicated..."

"Then I'll look after her, also. I don't care. I'll take on a pack of wild dogs if it means I can devote every lasting minute to my son."

Helena laughed. "No pack of wild dogs I'm afraid: just me, Castor and my four-year-old daughter."

"_Four_?"

"She turned four last week. Her name is Sybil."

"I'll take you all in. You can move in right now, you, Sybil and Castor - we can be a proper family."

"We don't have to-"

"-No, I want to. It's the least I can do for being such a prat and abandoning you. I want to be there, I don't want to leave you all on your own to take care of two children." Helena moved round the living room and sat on Sirius' side. She extended her hand and Castor took hold of her finger, clutching it in his little tiny hand. Sirius gave out a laugh of delight and gazed at Helena. "Please move in with me."

"There's not much room."

"Yes there is; it's two bedrooms."

"There'll be four of us."

"Then I'll buy a bigger house," Helena began to protest, but Sirius quickly cut across her. "You can stay with me for the mean time. You can have my bedroom and Sybil and Castor can have the spare. I'll sleep on the couch."

"I couldn't ask that from you - not after what you're offering to do for me," Helena reasoned. "Please think through this before you decide. I don't want you to wake up tomorrow morning and regret it."

"I won't, I know I won't. Please Helena, move in with me? I want to be there for you three."

Helena didn't know what to say. It was a lovely offer, but was it an offer she could accept? She felt something the first time she and Sirius commemorated their passion for one another - something she didn't feel when she did with Sybil's Father. She knew Sirius couldn't feel the same way, but the way he gazed at Castor made her wonder, against the odds, if he would feel the same way.

"Do you want to date me?" Helena asked in a low whisper.

She'd let her guard down since having Castor. Before, she had been very feminine and strong, but now she felt empty inside. Poor Helena Rosier, she thought, what a poor little heartbreaking bitch. She stared down in her lap, waiting for Sirius' negative reply... But it never came, only a positive one.

"If you'll let me."

"I will," she smiled. "I want to give us another go."

Sirius took Helena's hand and squeezed it. "Do you want help moving in?"

"_Now_," Helena echoed.

"No time like the present. So what do you say, will you move in with me?"

And the response he received couldn't have been better.

...

He helped Helena move into his flat that day. Helena didn't like the idea of using magic to move into the flat, and as soon as she left to pick up Sybil from the Nanny, Sirius unpacked all the boxes, moved Helena's clothes and hung them up in the oak wardrobe, and organised Castor and Sybil's bedroom all before it was five past three. Sirius looked around, nodding to himself, impressed by what he had done.

He didn't feel like he was being irrational with his decision; he felt like it was the right thing to do. Though, people may disagree with him (Lily, James and Remus) Sirius knew he was doing the right thing for Castor, having his parents being with him as he grew up.

Sirius liked the thought that he had a son. In a sense, he had felt left out when Remus and James did stuff with their children, and Sirius didn't have a child to join them with. But now he had two, in the space of the morning. They would be jealous, but Sirius also knew, concerned. How would he manage to look after a four month and four-year-old child? He had no experience apart from babysitting and looking after Harry for those forty days, but that wouldn't be the same. It could be easier, or it could be harder. Sirius wasn't sure.

At half past three Helena arrived back at the house. She did not have a key, so Sirius went to answer the door for her, and there she stood, with her hands on a small child, gazing around the flat and corridor in awe.

It was Sybil, Sirius automatically acknowledged. She looked every bit like her Mother: thick, black curly hair that hung just past her shoulders. Instead of Helena's brown eyes, Sybil had inherited - from her Father - deep, dark, blue eyes that investigated every area of Sirius' flat. She also possessed the identical air of confidence and arrogance as her Mother, though, as she was four-years-old, it was not as apparent.

"Sirius, this is my daughter, Sybil. Sybil, this is Sirius."

Sirius didn't know how to address the small girl, and instead, she gazed up at him with her blue eyes wide and alert.

"Hello," she greeted.

She did not seem nervous. Sirius simply smiled back at her. "Hello."

"Who are you?" She asked, rather rudely.

"_Sybil_," her Mother scolded. "Don't speak to Sirius like that; he's been very kind to allow us to live with him."

"Why?" She asked abruptly, shifting her gaze from Sirius to Helena. "I want to go _home_."

"This is your home now."

Sirius jumped when Sybil stomped her foot. "I don't _like it here_! I want to go home, _now_."

"Fine," said Helena coolly. "You can go home."

"Good."

Helena opened her bag and handed Sybil a key. Sirius knew that it was too small to be a house key, and grinned. Sirius stepped aside for Helena to join him in the apartment, as Sybil looked at the key, turning it over in her hands.

"You can live by yourself."

The poor child tried not to look as if she was scared of the prospect, and looked at Sirius for help. "Or," he reasoned. "You can come and live here with me, Mummy and Castor."

"I don't _know_ you."

That was true. Sirius was a stranger to Sybil and she must be frightened. Sirius knew he would have been in her position. He got down on his knees and took her hand. "Do you like kittens, Sybil?"

"I prefer puppies."

Sirius chuckled. "I've got no puppies I'm afraid, but I know a man at work whose cat has just had kittens and he offered me one. And I've just had a thought: what pretty little girl would like to have a kitten as a pet?"

"Me?" She guessed.

"Yes, you," said Sirius, "Sybil I want you to be happy here. Please give it a chance."

Helena watched the scene portray in front of her. She knew how headstrong her daughter could be, and how hard it was to get her to do something, but Sirius - to Helena's surprise - was succeeding in _bribing_ her daughter to move in with him. Helena had to admit that she was impressed.

"What do I call you?" The young girl asked.

"What do you want to call me?"

"You're Castor's Daddy."

"I am, yes."

"Are you _my_ Daddy?"

"Sybbie," Helena said in a hushed whisper, "Sirius - you don't have to comply."

Sirius only smiled at her. "What can I call you? Sybbie?" Sybil nodded. "That's a very pretty name. Do you want me to show you where your new bedroom is?" Another nod. Sirius returned to his normal height and Sybil responded by taking Sirius' hand. Sirius - sensing Helena' surprise, merely shrugged and lead Sybil to her new bedroom.

...

By Evening, Helena, Sybil and Castor were settled into Sirius' flat. The children's bedrooms had been furnitured with Sybil's old bed and cot, wardrobe and clothes and the whole place looked like a relatively good home for two children to grow up in. It was a lot friendlier than Sirius' had been - but that possibly had an impact on the two loving parents the children deserved.

Sirius was surprised how well Sybil seemed to get on with him. She followed him around the flat, asking him questions and helped him buy, prepare and cook dinner. She was a fascinating child, well-developed and well-loved. She chatted non-stop from the walk to the shops and the way back, and Sirius _very_ much enjoyed her company.

When she went to bed she insisted Sirius said goodnight to her, and she kissed him. When Helena saw this, when the door was closed and they were out of the joined room, she apologised to Sirius for it.

"She's not your responsibility... I shouldn't burden you with her."

"Burden me with her?" Sirius echoed. "Helena, Sybbie's great."

"For now, but are you _really_ going to want to raise a child that's not yours?"

Sirius hesitated for a moment, and made his decision. "Yeah. I'm happy looking after Sybbie."

"It's been a _day_!"

"Why are you so reluctant to me caring after Sybbie?"

"Because she's not your child!" Helena relented. "And you're not going to want to look after her."

"Why do you think that? I look after my Godchildren: Harry and Callie with no complaints _all_ the time and Jacob as well."

"That's different; that's not permanent."

"And I would _happily_ take on any of them permanently because I love them. Do you really think I could ever grow tired of you, Castor or Sybbie?"

"Perhaps," Helena admitted.

"I won't," he countered.

"She'll never be your daughter," Helena reminded. "Not really. Not by blood."

"Helena... Her Father's gone like you said. She needs a Father figure in her life as much as Castor does, and I could provide that for her. Castor's my son and Sybbie's his sister, why can't I raise Sybbie like we'll raise Castor: as a family, together."

The lady sighed, and sat down on the sofa. "It's just hard for me to think that someone could be so kind to us. Even Sybbie's Father would only look after her when it suited him, and that was usually once a month for two days."

"Well I'm not like that," Sirius promised. "I'll look after them both: Castor and Sybbie as my children. Castor's always going to be my son, nothing will change that."

Helena smiled at him, and he went to sit next to her on the sofa. He put his arm around her and invited her to rest her head on his chest. She complied. "You ought to go to the Ministry and get Castor's birth and legal documents changed then," Helena told him.

"And Sybbie?"

Helena moved her head, and studied Sirius' expression. "Would you... Would you _really_ look after Sybil?"

"Absolutely. I'll change her documents at work tomorrow, stating I'm her legal Father with you, tomorrow, if you'll allow it."

"But Sirius, it's been one day."

"The best day of my life. Today, I discovered I have a son, and with him, a wonderful, amazing, beautiful sister and devoted Mother. You've always been in my thoughts, Helena; I could never really get you off my mind. You're the one that got away."

Helena chuckled modestly, and looked into Sirius' face. "I think I know where Castor gets his good looks from."

"And I know where Sybil gets hers."

She smiled, almost as if she was embarrassed by the compliment. She might have been, too, as it was the kindest thing anyone had said to her in months.

...

Every Full Moon, the evening before, Remus took Callie round to the Potter's or Sirius' for them to look after her while he transformed into a Werewolf. It wasn't safe for her in the house with him, even with Remus on Wolfsbane Potion she could still be hurt. It was the Potter's turn to look after her, and it was also a Saturday night. On Friday and Saturday night's, Sirius usually went round the Potter's for dinner, drinks and a good time, with Remus occasionally coming along. So it was a surprise to James that Sirius would miss one night with him, and when Remus arrived with the almost one-year-old Callie asleep round his neck, James confessed his query.

"He was probably busy with work," Remus said.

Remus was feeling ill, had a throbbing headache and every limb in his body ached. Never the less, he stayed to hear James' problem. "But... He would have _owled_ me at least?"

"He probably forgot."

James didn't seem too convinced. "Do you think there's something wrong?"

"Why would there be something wrong?"

"He normally _never_ missed Friday nights - you know that! Do you think I should go over to his flat and see if there is something the matter? I haven't heard any word from him since last Saturday."

"You probably should if he doesn't come tonight," Remus opinionated. "You know it's probably nothing."

He nodded. "I _do_ know that it's probably nothing... But I still feel like I should go round there."

"Do it," urged the Werewolf.

"I'll go tomorrow if he doesn't come round tonight," James chose. "Will you come with me?"

"Prongs... You're not _five_."

"I don't mean to hold my hand or protect me, but just to see if he's okay."

"I'm transforming tonight," Remus reminded. "In about for hours. I'm sorry Prongs, but you know I won't be in any fit shape to see anyone tomorrow."

James sighed. "You're right... Have you heard any word from him, though?"

"I think I would have told you by now if I had."

"Did he seem off last week to you?"

"No, not at all."

"Would there be anyone else he would go and see?"

"Andromeda, but she's not likely to keep him there for a whole _week_ without communication, is she? Sirius has probably just got a lot going on at the moment, and we're not helping him by fussing over him. He's a grown man, he's allowed space."

"You're right," James mused. "But I'm still going to go round his."

...

He did go round his, and he went round on Monday Afternoon. He knocked on Sirius' door and waited almost two minutes for an answer. It wasn't unusual for Sirius not to answer the door quickly if he had company, but the company he saw upon arrival was not the company he usually saw.

In the front room sat two small children and a woman James did not know. If it hadn't been Sirius who answered the door, James might have thought he had moved without telling him, even if the woman said Sirius still lived there. Why would Sirius be living with children? When Sirius saw that puzzled expression on James' face, Sirius stepped out into the corridor.

"It's a long story," Sirius began.

James crossed his arms, eyeing Sirius up and down. "Since when did you become a childminder?"

"I'm not a childminder; they're my children."

"_Your _children?" James repeated, not sure he had heard correctly. "You don't have children."

"I didn't until last Friday," Sirius informed, almost smiling. "It's a long story."

"You said," James remarked. "How can they be _your_ children? The girl looked about six."

"She's four, actually, and she's only my daughter by law. The four-month-old baby, however, is my son biologically."

It took James a while to run this through his mind. "You have children?"

"Apparently."

"How - why - what _happened_?"

"It's a long story," Sirius repeated. "Complicated, too."

"Well - can I go inside or is your apartment _filled_ with children?"

"There's only two, and if I let you in, it will spoil the surprise."

James snorted. "What do you call this then? Padfoot, I've just walked into your apartment, seen two children and you tell me you're their Father? I think a cup of coffee and a sit down at the Kitchen table would be a good remedy for me."

"Let's not go in yet," Sirius decided. "Sit on the stairs with me."

"Mate, I'm not sitting on the stairs with you when there's a perfectly good flat inside!"

"It's a long story and I don't want them hearing all the bad bits!"

"There are bad bits?" Sirius nodded. "That's it, you're coming to mine. Lily's gone out for a while with Harry and Jacob so we'll have the house to ourselves. If what you're about to tell me is as bad as it sounds... We're going to need a drink afterwards."

"Can't; I've got children to look after."

This wasn't the Sirius that James knew and loved. Shuddering, James took hold of Sirius and the pair apparated to the Potter's front room. James threw his coat onto the sofa, not hanging it up to delay time, and went to sit at the table, using his wand to then put away the coat and summon two bottles of beer. Sirius joined him on the opposite side of the table and opened the beverage with a flick of his wand.

"So... Are you going to tell me who these children are?"

Sirius took a swig of his drink. "They're my children."

"We've established that. How did this happen?"

"Last Friday, I went to Gringotts to withdraw some money from my vault. Except, I didn't actually _go_ to Gringotts, I stayed in the Leaky Cauldron instead where I found Helena... With my son."

"Helena? Helena who?"

"Helena Rosier," James' eyes widened at the name. "Uhuh. Evan Rosier's elder sister - but Helena's not anywhere near as bad as Evan. Anyway, so I'd had sex with Helena twice before. Once was about two years ago and the other... eleven months ago."

James groaned. "Please tell me your conception was one at _least_ the slightest bit modest?"

"It was in an abandoned backstreet alley between a strip club and nightclub. We're not going to really tell anyone about that..."

"Good idea. Continue."

Sirius did so. "So I went to sit with her, and she left rather promptly, which I thought was suspicious so I followed her with a toy she'd left behind. I gave it to her and invited her back to my flat where, she confessed that the two month old baby, Castor that was with her is my son."

"Padfoot... Weren't you safe?"

"I _thought _so, but apparently, Muggle contraceptives aren't as good as magical ones."

"Clearly, then what happened next?"

"I asked Helena and Castor to move in with me."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because he's my _son_!" Sirius reminded. "My flesh and blood, perhaps - and I'm not exactly going to leave Helena to raise two children on her own, am I? Does that sound like the sort of thing I could do? No. I face up to the consequences of my actions, which is why I happily asked Helena, Castor and Sybil to live with me."

"_Sybil_? Who's Sybil?"

"Helena's daughter."

James scoffed and shook his head. "You really do get yourself into the deepest shit, don't you Padfoot?"

"Me raising my son isn't 'shit', Prongs. I love him."

"Of course you do," James dismissed. "But it's a bit irrational, wouldn't you say? You barely know the woman: she's the elder sister of a serious Death Eater - how do you even know Castor is your son?"

"If you saw him, you'd know."

"You're just going to go by looks, are you? A beautiful woman comes along with a son and you just bought it?"

"If it wasn't my son then why was she so keen on my putting my name on his documents?"

"She knows you're rich! This all could just be a ploy for money!"

Sirius laughed and crossed his arms. "You don't know anything, Prongs; Castor is my son and I am one hundred percent positive about that. It didn't matter to me that Sybil wasn't my daughter, but I took her in anyway. And I've grown to love the pair of them."

"Who? Helena and Castor or Sybil and Castor?"

"All three of them."

James didn't know if he should be pleased for Sirius, or warn him for his naivety. He seemed positive that Castor was his son, and sounded devoted to looking after him and his sister never the less. James pinched the bridge of his nose, leaned on the table and looked up at the other man.

"Can I meet them?"

Sirius nodded. "You're _really _going to like them! Sybil's starting Harry's Primary School next term - they're the same age."

"Lovely," James noted dryly. "Can I meet your family, or what?"

It seemed weird for James to ask that; if he ever thought he was meeting Sirius' children, it would be beside him in a Hospital Ward with his wife/girlfriend/fiancé in a bed, exhausted, beside him. Not in a flat in Central London where they were already there for him, prepared. The idea of Sirius being a Father was ridiculous - _laughable_ even, that he would be taken in so easily. But when James saw Castor with his own eyes for the first time, there was no doubting that he was his son.

When James went to meet Sybil, Helena and Castor he was not alone. Remus and Lily were with him at the same time; it had seemed better and quicker that way, to get them all acquainted at the same time. Everyone was present: Sirius' family and his friends, and he was anxious and excited for that Evening when they would all meet.

It was Sirius who greeted them at the door and allowed them in. At the sound of guests arriving, Helena appeared from the bedroom and moved over to the newcomers. She hugged each Remus and James, saying that it was good to finally meet them, but stopped especially for Lily.

"Sirius speaks so much about you," Helena informed.

Lily smiled sheepishly. "If only he spoke more about you! I don't know how you could do it on your own: raise two children - it's hard enough doing it with James!"

"How old are your children?" Helena asked.

"Harry's four and Jacob's three months."

"Harry goes to St. Oliver's, doesn't he?" Lily replied that he did. "Yes, Sirius mentioned it; he wants Sybbie to go there in the autumn term, too. Three's a bit young, don't you think?"

"St Oliver's is the only one in the city. For their first year it's more of a playgroup - it's a great school, though," Lily complimented.

"I'm sure it is."

If Helena was pleased to see the trio, it was nothing compared to how Sybil felt. She came running in from her spare bedroom and tripped over one of Castor's toys, knocking into a table and smashing a vase - given to Sirius by Marlene - into millions of pieces.

If it had been anyone else who smashed the vase, Sirius would have gone ballistic. Helena looked mildly annoyed, while Sirius only laughed, and scooped Sybbie up.

"About time I got rid of that old thing," he joked. He looked at James for his next bit, as if speaking (which he was) something that had a deeper meaning to it. "It's best to leave the past behind us and move on. Clear it out. Sybbie, will you go and get me my wand?"

She complied, returning seconds later with Sirius wand. He cleared away the rubbish. "I'll go and get Castor; he's sleeping at the moment so please try not to wake him." Helena informed.

Continuing the conversation, Remus asked: "So Sybil, how do you like your new home?"

"Love it," she beamed. "Better than the old one."

"Do you like living with Sirius?" She nodded vigorously and James commented: "You might be the only one."

"Are you looking forward to starting school?" Remus asked, ignoring James' comment.

"Yes," Sybil gushed. "Yes, yes, yes."

"What are you looking forward most about it?"

"Making friends," she answered.

"Good answer," James said, "I'm sure you'll make loads."

"I will," she answered confidently. "Everyone likes me."

If she wasn't Sirius' daughter, the trio came to the conclusion by the end of the night that the two of them would get on well.

Everyone got on well. Lily - surprisingly - made good friends with Helena by the end of the night and Lily brought Harry round after dinner for him to meet Sybil. The two of them got on as well as the parents did, and as Jacob and Callie (who were brought round also) and Castor slept in cots in the spare room, the other seven stayed in the living room laughing, talking and having fun most of the evening. For Sirius, the night had gone much better than he planned.


	12. Advance in Time

_**Seven Years and Eleven Months Later**_


	13. Wrong Choices

**A.N**. Here we go, here's the chapter some of you were asking about and it takes place on the day Sybil and Harry go to Hogwarts! Sorry if there are typos/errors (just message me if you find any) because I didn't have time to thoroughly read through it and I needed to update it by _today_! Hoping to update quicker for now on so fingers crossed I stick to it!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, some content belongs to Harry Potter and the Philospher's Stone by J.K Rowling and Bloomsbury and I OWN NOTHING

**Previously: **Remus had a Daughter named Callie in September. James & Lily had a son called Jacob in May and Sirius had one in June. However, Sirius was not present for the birth of his son, and wasn't even aware he _had_ a son until Helena Rosier turned up out of the blue announcing it. So Sirius and Helena moved in together with Castor Black and Helena's Daughter: Sybil Rosier.

**Contact: **satansbowtie**dot**tumblr**dot**com - **replace dot with **.

_Enjoy =)_

* * *

It was the morning that Harry Potter and Sybil Rosier were to go to Hogwarts. They were both, by this time, eleven-years-old. Harry had only been eleven for a little longer than a month, and Sybil was turning twelve in a little longer than a month. They were both the same age, but there was still a vast difference.

The Potter's lived in their house down Victoria Grove in London. It was a large house, but only contained four members inside: James and Lily Potter, and their two sons, Harry and Jacob Potter. It was Harry's turn to go to Hogwarts, as he had received his letter and was eleven-years-old, and in two years time, it would be Jacob's turn, when he would be eleven. Right now, he was only nine, but he longed to be eleven and going off to Hogwarts now. Of course, that was not allowed.

James Potter was first to awake. By this time in 1991 he was a mere thirty-one-year-old, but his face still preserved his natural handsomeness he had possessed when he was twenty-five, per say. He had thin, black hair that stuck out on all ends and was nearly impossible to tame. When he was younger, his hair would be permanently untidy and would never (apart from on a rare occasion) run a comb through it; there was simply no point. He had a long nose and balanced on it, was a pair of spectacles he had to wear due to bad eyesight. His eyesight was _dire_ without glasses, and though he didn't like wearing them, he couldn't not, as for his shiny hazel eyes, naturally, made everything look like blurred pictures and various, colourful squiggles. He was also a tall, broad man, and maintained a good body structure for his age because of how fit he was as a teenager: a healthy diet, morning jobs and strenuous Quidditch practice.

When Jacob Potter (their youngest son) turned two, James got a job. It was a good job, with very little paperwork required. He worked on The Department of Magical Games and Sports - not a job James would have accepted when he was younger, but it was a job he was comfortable in at the moment. He worked part-time, only short hours and the money was decent.

His wife, however, Lily Potter, got a job when Jacob was nine and worked for the Daily Prophet. She was a writer, and was able to write her articles or reports at home. She had always longed to be a Historian, and she was lucky that the division she was working in were about Ancient Runes and old curses on Egyptian Pharaoh Pyramids. She loved her job, and was lucky enough to travel worldwide almost every day.

Her husband and she, in physical features, couldn't have looked much different. Lily had thick, red hair that fell just past her shoulder and a pale complexion. She had been thin when she was younger, but after giving birth to two children in five years, she had gained some weight. She was still tall and slender, though, and was perfectly fine with what she looked like - she didn't _care_ much, actually. She was rather beautiful when she was younger, and still was in her thirties. Her skin was semi-flawless and had an even shaped face. Her eyes were almond-shaped, emerald green and rather fantastic, in many people's opinion. She was also a very beautiful Witch on the inside, too, and if your looks resembled your kindness and personality, Lily would quite possibly be the most beautiful woman on Earth, she was that compassionate.

Then there were their children. Their handsome, wonderfully crafted sons who were a blessing to them both. The two brothers got along surprisingly well, seeing that their personalities unlike and they were quite different.

The eldest was going to Hogwarts that morning: Harry Potter and he was the brother whom was a mixture of both their parents. Harry looked very much like his Father, apart from his eyes; he had his Mother's emerald green, almond-shaped eyes which was a very distinct feature. Harry was tall and lean, with messy brown hair and wore glasses like their Father. Personality wise, Harry was more like his Mother. He was a good kid, he was selfless and caring and protective. He was sporty and a tremendously good Quidditch player. He was slightly arrogant in a way, too, funny, sarcastic and witty - traits he could have inherited from his Mother _and_ Father. He was compassionate and respectful, something that someone may have doubted if you were James Potter's son.

Jacob Potter, however, was identical to their father. Jacob was almost the same height as Harry, had a long nose like their Father but did not wear glasses. Their hazel eyes were the same and jet black hair. Jacob looked just like his Father had done when he was eleven. He was more clever and more talented than Harry, but was also arrogant, and it was slightly more apparent and Jake. He was boastful, yet respectful and was grateful for what he had in life. He was a loyal friend, compassionate as well.

On the morning of September 1st, the Potter family woke at different times. It was a surprise that Harry would be the one to wake first, as he was normally the last one to.

When he woke up, he didn't leave his bedroom. He looked up at his ceiling, trying to ignore the pang of anxiety that dwelled in his stomach. Tonight, he would be in a different dormitory, sharing a room with boys he did not know. If he was in Gryffindor, he knew three people. If he was in Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff or (God forbid) Slytherin, he would know no one. Harry didn't think he would be this nervous; he had been so excited right up until this point. Harry sighed and sat up, if he couldn't get back to sleep, then at least he should start checking his trunk.

Harry crawled over to his Hogwarts trunk and undid the locks. He pulled the lid off and began rummaging through his stuff. He was only looking at them, not acknowledging them in anyway. He was bored, in a sense, with the anticipation of Hogwarts. It had been all he could think about for _months_, and now he was bored with it. He closed the trunk and got up, left his room and went downstairs.

Lily was in the kitchen, humming to something and cooking breakfast. Harry was cautious not to wake his Dad and Brother as he walked down the creaking stairs, and Lily noticed him.

"You're up early!" She stated, laughing. "It's eight o'clock."

Harry shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."

Smiling at him from the kitchen, she went over to him, extended her arms and gave him a hug, kissing him on the top of his head. "I know you're nervous, Darling - I was nervous for my first day of Hogwarts, too, but you'll be _fine_!"

"They'll stare at me."

"Why would they do that?" Harry moved from his Mother and raised his hand his hand to his forehead, pushing back his hair, revealing the lightning shape scar on his forehead. "Oh," she said, "come on Harry - you've never minded before when people used to look at you! You and Jacob would pretend to be celebrities."

"We _are_ celebrities," Harry answered. "I am, at least. At least at Oliver's no one knew who I was there."

St. Oliver's was Harry's Primary school he had attended from the ages of three to eleven, and he had enjoyed it there. His story about the scar was that he had an accident as a child and never pushed the matter. Everyone would ask him, though, and everyone would stare.

"At least you're famous for a good thing - what you did was _exceptional_!"

"I can't even remember what I did!" Harry reminded. "So I can't exactly tell awesome stories about it. I can't exactly say: oh yeah, I remember it so well, it was the night my parents almost died!"

Lily frowned at him. "You're lucky not to remember it."

"I'd be lucky if I remembered it."

"It's better not to be able to remember that night, than not be able to remember your Dad and I. Harry it was a tormenting night-"

"-You never talk about it-"

"-Because maybe we don't want to!" Lily's temper was rising, and she hated that. She sighed, and pulled her son into a hug. "Look Harry... I'm sorry, but some things you're just better not knowing. We told you the important bits, and that's all you need to know. It happened very quickly and very suddenly. It was a horrible night."

"You've said that," Harry grumbled. "I'm going out."

"_Out_?" Lily repeated. "Out where?"

"To get some chocolate."

"I can go and do that."

"I want to do it," Harry pleaded.

"Darling, it's eight o'clock and you're still in your pyjamas! At least go and have a shower and get dressed first."

Harry did so, and came back down twenty minutes later to the bottom floor vacant of his Dad and Jacob. When Lily saw Harry, she went over to him with a two pound coin. "Don't buy too much, alright? You've got breakfast and no doubt you'll buy sweets on the train."

Harry only nodded and Lily unlocked the door for him. Harry zipped his jumper and pulled up his hood. Once he was round the corner, out of his parents sight, he broke into a sprint, and instead of heading to the shop, headed for the park a few streets down from the shops. Near the park, was a house he went round every day: his best friend's home.

He ran to the red front door at Portberry Road and tapped on it. He waited only half a minute for the door to be answered by his best friend George Hastings.

George Hastings was a short boy with curly black hair. He had brown eyes and rather tanned. He was playful and boisterous - not Lily's favourite choice for Harry's best friend, but Harry got along with hi exceptionally well. George looked surprised to see Harry at the front door.

"I thought you went to school today," George remarked.

"Couldn't leave without saying good bye," Harry stated. "You coming out?"

George glanced behind him and shrugged. "Might as well."

The two boys left Portberry Road. Harry didn't want to leave George behind when he went away, and was worried George would make other friends and forget about Harry. Harry hoped that George would have the same worries that Harry did, but it was George Hastings: his world was care-free and nonchalant; he had no worries.

"What's the school you're going to called again?"

"Hogwarts," Harry replied.

"Never heard of it," the curly boy remarked. "Isn't Sybil going there too?" Harry nodded. "Lucky - ain't it a boarding school?" Harry nodded again. "Luckier."

"I'll come and visit in the half-terms," Harry promised. "We can play out together every day."

"Definitely," George confirmed. "You're my best friend - I'm not going to forget you!"

"It's good to hear you say that," Harry confessed.

"What? You thought I was going to give up on you?" Harry nodded and George shoved him. "Get outta here - I could never forget you!"

"Me neither," Harry agreed.

"When do you leave for Hogwarts again?"

"Eleven o'clock."

"You have like, three hours!"

"I couldn't leave without saying goodbye."

"You said goodbye yesterday!" Harry laughed. "Thanks for coming to see me though. Does your Mum know you're out this early?"

"She thinks I've gone to the shop," Harry informed. Out of his pocket, he extracted the two pound his Mum gave him. He handed it to George. "As my leaving present."

"I couldn't take your money-"

"-Just _take_ it! Buy some sweets or something with it; I'll have plenty later."

George hesitated before taking the money but did so, gripping it tightly in his hand. "Thanks Harry. You're a good friend." Harry simply smiled. "I didn't get _you_ anything, but I'll give you a bit of advice: get back home to your Mum before she kills you."

Harry bit his lip. "I don't want to go home."

"Why not?"

"I'm scared about starting school."

George frowned. "Harry, we're _all _scared about starting school - why would you be scared, though? You're only going to be the most popular kid in your year and you _know_ that! So why would you be scared?"

Harry bowed his head. "I'm going to go now."

"Did I say something wrong?"

He shook his head. "No - no, I'm just gonna go back home now. I'll see you at Christmas."

Harry began to walk a few steps away in the opposite direction, and George called out to him. "Harry!" Harry turned around. "Can you tell - can you-" George paused mid sentence, but shook his head. "Never mind, I'll see you at Christmas!"

Harry smiled, nodded and continued to walk off. George didn't pursue him, and Harry walked back home quietly and glumly. When he arrived home and through the front door, his Dad was sat i the kitchen with the paper spread out in front of him, cup of coffee magically stirring itself beside him. When Harry entered the kitchen he glanced up.

"There you are! Your Mum said you were out, what did you buy?"

Harry shrugged. "Sweets."

"Any for me?" Harry shook his head. "Greedy. Your Mum also told me that you're worried about your scar, anything you want to talk to me about?" Harry shook his head. "Come on Harry, I'm your Dad, you can tell me anything."

"I was just being silly," dismissed his son.

"Being nervous about school isn't silly, son. Even _I_ was nervous about starting Hogwarts, but you're going to be fantastic. You've got friends: Ron, Sybil and Neville and you know all the teachers so that's nothing to worry about! I'm sure every other student going to Hogwarts today is just as nervous as you."

"Do you really think so?" Harry asked.

"Absolutely - now, are you all packed?" Harry nodded. "Hedwig come back?" Again, he nodded. "Money? Parchment, quills, everything you need?"

"Yes Dad," Harry said, "is there any juice left in the fridge?"

"Of course, a whole jug full. Can you bring some over here when you've got it?"

Harry did so, and when he joined him at the table, Lily and Jacob came downstairs, too. Jacob - nine-years-old - looked very tired, very annoyed and cross at his Mother. Lily kept prompting Jacob down the stairs and into the kitchen, where he took his place opposite Harry at the table, looking glum and making the effort to slam his elbow on the table.

"Something wrong, Jake?" James asked.

"I want to go to Hogwarts."

"For Heaven's sake Jake!" Came Lily's weary voice from the kitchen. "You have to wait two years!"

Perhaps Lily wouldn't have found it so annoying if Jake hadn't been whining about it ever since Harry got his letter two months ago. Every younger sibling was probably feeling the same way, and every parent was annoyed when they said it, but no child said it every five minutes for the past two months.

"Harry gets to go!" Jake argued.

"Because I'm eleven," Harry retorted. "You're nine; you have to wait."

Jake slammed his fork on the table. "It's not fair!"

"Don't slam your fork on the table," James disciplined. "And get your elbow off it, too. Apologise to your Mum for snapping at her."

"Sorry," Jake half-heartedly apologised. "But it's not _fair_!"

"It's only two years," James reminded. "Think of all the treats Harry's going to miss out on while he's not here. That means extra toys and chocolate for you."

"Now _that_'_s_ not fair," Lily scolded.

"Neither is Harry going to Hogwarts and me not!" Jake exclaimed.

"Don't answer your Mother back," James warned and flicked over a page in the Daily Prophet. "Harry's all packed and we're meeting the others at half ten, so that gives us almost two hours. Harry, is everything bought and ready for you?"

"_Yes_," Harry repeated.

"Will Castor be with them?" Jake asked eagerly.

"Probably if he comes to see Sybbie off," Lily answered.

"Good," Jake said.

"Don't think the two of you can plan to come too," Harry snapped. "No little brothers allowed."

"Until they're eleven," Lily added. "Right. Breakfast - what are we having?"

* * *

Another family, just twenty minutes down the road from the Potter's, were going through the same thing. The family were the Rosier-Black's, which consisted of a man and his Girlfriend and her Daughter and their Son. They were a complicated family on the outside, but on the inside, they were as loving as any other.

The man of the household: Sirius Black, was thirty-one-years-old. He had long, brown hair that fell just above his shoulders and deep grey eyes. He was a handsome man, no doubt about it, and as characteristic as a person could get. He had a haunted past, but was strong enough to look past it and live in the present. He was selfless, caring, brave and loving and on the other hand, obnoxious, immature, reckless and irresponsible. Underneath that, he had a big heart, and he needed it, too. Sirius maintained the same job he had nine years ago. He accepted no promotions and he very much enjoyed his job.

His girlfriend was Helena Rosier, and they might as well be married. They lived together, slept in the same bed every night and even had a child together. She was older than Sirius by four years, a Slytherin and the older sister to a Death Eater, and she too, was very loving underneath. On the outside, she was beautiful. She had long black hair and deep brown eyes. She was tall, willowy and slender, and possessed the sort of beauty you would always remember. She was witty and she was arrogant and she was ruse rude. She heed no regard to other people's feelings and only associated with people that she liked. That, now, is not as true as it had been. She was no longer selfish or rude as she had once been. She was still coarse to a majority of people, but since being with Sirius, she had gotten softer. She had also developed the ability to hold a job, and had been on the Governor's Board at Hogwarts for three years. She, however, thought this job mundane and eager to get out of it as quickly as possible.

Her daughter showed no sign of ever losing those negative traits. Her name was Sybil Rosier, and she was just as beautiful as her Mother. Sybil was tall and slender with a very pretty face. She had dark hair like her Mother, but dark blue eyes like her biological Father had. She had never been good at making friends and even though she was only eleven, this was not a good trait for her to have. But at the same time, she was a joy to be around. She was humorous and intelligent, creative and resourceful. If you looked past the stubborn and distrusting, conceited and self-involved side of her, she was a very good person at heart.

Her younger brother: Castor Black, however, disagreed. He was very different to his sister. He had lighter, shorter hair and brown eyes. He was handsome, like Sybil, but a lot more approachable. He was outgoing, confident, witty and dependable. His sister hated him for that, and he hated his sister for what she was like.

Unlike Harry being the first to wake up, Sybil Rosier was the last. When she emerged downstairs, she was wearing her brand new Hogwarts uniform, excluding the robes and jumper and tie, which she would receive the evening upon her arrival at school.

"There she is: my little girl all grown up and going to Hogwarts!" Sirius beamed from the kitchen table. "How are you this morning?"

"Fine," Sybil answered, moving round and stood near her Father - who was not really her Father at all, but the man who put his name on her legal documents after less than a week of meeting her. "Where's Mama?"

"Right here," called Helena from the kitchen. In her arms she held Sybil's three-year-old cat: Nancy, who had escaped out the back door. "Make sure this thing doesn't go missing at Hogwarts. Are you _sure_ you don't want a different pet for Hogwarts, Sybbie? It's not too late to go to the Magical Menagerie."

"It's _fine_," Sybil persisted. "I don't need some ratty kitten; I have Nancy."

"Mhm... Breakfast?"

"I'll eat on the train," Sybil replied.

Sirius help up a jug of juice. "Juice?" He offered. Instead, she leaned over and took his glass, drinking it instead. "Hey!"

She put the empty glass down with a grin. "No thanks, I've had some."

"Don't go stealing other people's drinks at Hogwarts," Helena advised.

"Why would I do that?" Sybil asked. "Merlin knows what they're carrying."

Castor Black arrived in the room and sat beside his sister. "You won't make any friends at Hogwarts."

"Castor!" Sirius laughed. "That's not nice."

"I probably won't," Sybil admitted. "But at least I get to go and I'm not a dirty little squib."

Helena snapped her fingers at her daughter. "That's _enough_, Sybbie."

She rolled her eyes. "I was only _joking_. Sorry to insult you, Castor; it's bad enough you're a squib without someone reminding you."

"I am _not_ a squib!"

"Just ignore your sister," Sirius advised. "She's only teasing you. When she's gone you're going to miss her and her teasing."

"No I won't," Castor objected.

"Yes you will," she replied.

"I want you gone. Do you have to come back?"

Sybil pushed Castor hard, and it was lucky for him that he didn't fall on the ground. Helena rushed over to them. "Sybil go to your room."

"But Mama, I was-"

"-Yes, well we're leaving to go meet James and Lily at the station in a minute, and we're walking to Kings Cross."

"_Walking_?" Sybil repeated, aghast.

"Sybbie, it's only fifteen minutes away."

"I'm not going to the station looking like a mess!" She cried. "We're flooing."

"No we are not," Sirius said adamantly. "We're walking, and you'll put up with it if you want to go to school."

She crossed her arms firmly. "Fine," she said coolly, "but you'll regret it, Mama, when your hair falls out and it's freezing cold and the rain ruins your make up. And how do you expect we lug a trunk and a cat around London without raising suspicion?"

"Plenty of other people do it," Helena informed.

Sybil pulled a face and climbed off her chair. She went upstairs to fetch her trunk and jacket she would be wearing. She put on the jacket and struggled to pull her heavy trunk down the stairs. Eventually, she pushed it down the last five stairs and followed behind it. Sirius, Helena and Castor were still at the door, and Nancy was in her cat carrier.

"All set to go then," Sirius declared and unlocked the door. "After you."

It made Sirius upset to realize that his daughter was leaving him to go to Hogwarts, but she was so excited to go. She was fortunate that her parents could buy her everything new that she needed. She had a new wand, new pet, new robes and new school books - Helena had even taken her out to buy her a whole new Hogwarts wardrobe. Though Sirius had been with her to buy everything, shopping for clothes was an area where he would have to miss out.

The family of four walked through London to Kings Cross and eventually, Platform Nine and Three Quarters, somewhere neither of the parents had been in almost fifteen years, but it had not changed a bit. There were crying parents wherever they looked, sending their children off to Hogwarts for the first time or, again. Sybil looked around with great curiosity at the entertainment before her, and Sirius put a comforting hand on her shoulder. She was not nervous to go - instead she was filled to the brim of confidence and delight, but the comforting gesture was more for Sirius than his step-daughter.

They stopped together and Sirius put the trunks on the train and Sybil said goodbye to her brother. It was not a compassionate farewell, just a shove from Sybil and a quick, fleeting hug which was, actually, the most love the siblings had ever shown each other. Then it was Helena's turn for a goodbye, and the normally well controlled woman dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around her only daughter, kissing her repeatedly and whispering to her, stroking her dark brown hair. There were tears in Helena's eyes and in Sirius' eyes, also.

Sybil turned to Sirius and threw her arms around his waist. Sirius crouched down and hugged her back, kissing her on the top of her head. Sirius longed for Sybil to be his daughter - his _actual_ daughter by blood and not law. He loved Sybil to pieces, and had done since he was introduced to her. And it was clear she loved him back.

"Look after Mama," Sybil asked. "Don't let her cry _too _much."

"What about me?" Sirius inquired.

"What about you? Dad, you _never_ cry." But when he pulled back, something in Sybil's heart stopped, and she hugged her Father tighter. "I'm going to miss you so much."

"Write lots," Sirius demanded. "And don't be _too_ mean to your classmates."

Normally, this would have earned a sarcastic remark from Sybil, but she only nodded in her Father's shirt instead. She sniffed and pulled back. "Where are they?"

"They'll be here in a minute," Helena promised.

"Actually Sybbie, I think that's them now."

Sure enough, another family of four was heading their way. Two were in front: Jake and James, and once the families united, James said to Sirius: "I thought that was you lot and when Jake saw you, he ran off."

Sirius turned to James. "I can see that... Is Lily crying then?"

James nodded. "Not stopped since we got in the car."

"Helena's been the same." James seemed surprised. "I think she's trying _not_ to."

"I couldn't blame her - but how are you holding up now we're here? It's hard enough letting go of a child, let alone a _daughter_."

Sirius shrugged, and when Lily arrived with Harry, sure enough, the former was crying and the other seemed almost embarrassed. He was relieved when he saw his friend, though, and the two began conversing in undertones.

"You two ought to get on the train," Lily sniffed. "Come and give your Aunt Lily a hug, Sybbie dear."

Sybil complied and Lily held her tightly. "I remember when I first met you-"

"-Here we go," complained Harry.

"-you were no bigger than a sack of potatoes, your Dad described you as, but you were running around his house and you smashed his favourite vase, but he didn't care; because he loves you so much, no matter what, just like we all do."

"Thanks Aunt Lily..." Sybil said. "And you're right! We need to get on the train! Come on, Harry!"

She escaped her Aunt's grasp and jumped onto the train, Harry following her. They stayed at the window, talking out of it until the station master blew his whistle and the train began leaving the station. The pair leaned out the window, shouting their love and once out of the station and out of their parents view, they went to find a compartment.

Eventually, they found one in Compartment F and the friends sat opposite each other. "This is it! We're off to Hogwarts," Sybil declared.

"I'm nervous," Harry admitted.

"Why?" Sybil asked. "Why would _you_ be nervous?" He shrugged. "Is Dear little Harry Potter _disliking_ his fame now?"

"How did you guess?"

"It's not hard. I couldn't imagine how _you_ could be nervous. Me, on the other hand, well, that's different."

"You're not different," reasoned Harry. "It's not as if you're doing this alone, is it? You've got me and Ron and Neville."

"_Ron_ and _Neville_," Sybil scoffed. "My new best friends."

"Ron's one of my best friends," Harry explained.

"Who are your others?"

"You and George."

"George Hastings," she echoed, rolling her eyes. "Pleased to get rid of him."

"He likes you."

"A lot of people like me. I just don't like them."

At the door, arrived a tall, lanky, red-haired boy with scattered freckles on his face known as Ron Weasley. He slid open the compartment door and joined Harry and Sybil. Harry was pleased to see him and Sybil, on the other hand, lacked the enthusiasm Harry did.

"Finally going to Hogwarts then," Ron said with a desired sigh. "How long is it going to take?"

"Five hours," Sybil informed. Ron - who liked Sybil a great deal more than she liked him - still eyed her when he saw she was, already, wearing her school uniform. "I don't want to have to get changed in the cramped toilets," she explained.

"Oh," said Ron, "good idea."

For a while, they started talking about Hogwarts and the train soon took them out of London. Now they were speeding past fields full of cows and sheep. They were quiet for a time, watching the fields and lanes flick past. Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and said, "Anything off the cart, dears?"

Sybil rose to her feet, pulled out some knuts from her robe pocket and ordered a Pumpkin Pasty - which she got. Harry looked on the trolley and it was difficult for him to make up his mind. He too, pulled out some money - a lot more than Sybil had - and brought as much as he could for eleven silver Sickles and seven bronze Knuts.

Ron and Sybil both ogled him as he came back with an armful of sweets and chocolate and drinks. "Hungry are you?" Ron asked.

"Starving," said Harry, taking a large bite out of a pumpkin pasty.

Ron had taken out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. There were four sandwiches inside. He pulled one of them apart and said, "She always forgets I don't like corned beef…"

"Swap you for one of these," said Harry, holding up a pasty. "Go on —"

"You don't want this, it's all dry," said Ron. "She hasn't got much time," he added quickly, "you know, with five of us."

"Go on, have a pasty," said Harry. "Want anything, Sybbie?"

She shook her head and took a smaller bite of her pasty than Harry. "No, I'm fine."

"Suit yourself," grinned Ron. "More for us."

The boys swapped chocolate frog cards and Sybil amused herself boy going through a box of Bertie Bott's every flavour beans. It was an enjoyable trip, she had to admit, and Ron and Harry together _did_ make her laugh. She concluded that she would have to get used to them if they were going to be in a house together for the next seven years, and joined in more with their conversation for the while.

"You've _still_ got Scabbers?" Harry asked amused, referring to Ron's pet rat.

The rat was still snoozing on Ron's lap. "He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," said Ron in disgust. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look…" He rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white was glinting at the end. "Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway —"

They were interrupted, by another girl already wearing her Hogwarts robes. "Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth.

"_Neville_?" Ron laughed. "Where is he?"

"Back down the train," she informed. "Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then."

She sat down. Ron looked taken aback. "Er — all right." He cleared his throat. "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."

He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" said the girl. "Well, it's not very good, is it?"

"He's trying his best," Sybil commented through gritted teeth. "Let's see _you_ do some magic then, shall we?"

The girl scowled at Sybil, and told her: "I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard — I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough — I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

"Sybil Rosier," she replied. "You're _Muggleborn_, are you?"

"Yes," Hermione remarked. "That's not a problem, is it?"

Before Sybil could reply, Ron greeted himself. "I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered.

"Harry Potter," said Harry.

"Are you really?" said Hermione.

"I know all about you, of course — I got a few extra books, for background reading, and you're in _Modern Magical History _and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts _and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_."

"Am I?" said Harry, feeling dazed.

"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me," said Hermione. "Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad… Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."

"Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it," said Ron.

"Seems like you're gotten yourself an admirer, Harry," teased Sybil. "Bet she's not the only one."

When they were interrupted for the second time, Sybil grew annoyed. This time, it was a pale, blonde boy, he too, dressed in Hogwarts robes with two boys stood either side of him. "Is it true?" the boy asked. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," said Harry. He was looking at the other boys. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing on either side of the pale boy, they looked like bodyguards. "Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the pale boy carelessly, noticing where Harry was looking. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

"I've heard of you!" Sybil gasped.

"Me too," Harry added. "Not nice things, either."

Sybil agreed with him on that, and Draco Malfoy turned to Ron, who had said nothing at all in this, only laughed. "My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford." He turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He held out his hand to shake Harry's, but Harry didn't take it. "I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," he said coolly.

Draco Malfoy didn't go red, but a pink tinge appeared in his pale cheeks. "I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he said slowly. "Don't want to go around talking to Blood traitors like Weasley, here."

Both Harry and Ron stood up. "Say that again," Ron said, his face as red as his hair.

"Unless you get out now," said Harry, more bravely than he felt, because Crabbe and Goyle were a lot bigger than him or Ron or Sybil, but Harry knew she was the last person to defend anyone in a fight. This was true, because she was still sat down, glaring at Malfoy.

"But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some."

Goyle reached toward the Chocolate Frogs next to Ron — Ron leapt forward, but before he'd so much as touched Goyle, Goyle let out a horrible yell.

Scabbers the rat was hanging off his finger, sharp little teeth sunk deep into Goyle's knuckle — Crabbe and Malfoy backed away as Goyle swung Scabbers round and round, howling, and when Scabbers finally flew off and hit the window, all three of them disappeared at once. Perhaps they thought there were more rats lurking among the sweets, or perhaps they'd heard footsteps, because a second later, Hermione Granger had come in.

"What _has _been going on?" she said, looking at the sweets all over the floor and Ron picking up Scabbers by his tail.

"I think he's been knocked out," Ron said to Harry. He looked closer at Scabbers. "No — I don't believe it — he's gone back to sleep."

And so he had.

"You've met Malfoy before?" Ron asked.

Harry shook his head. "No... Never... Seems like a lot of people know more about me than I do about them. Oh, and thanks for that back there, Sybil; couldn't have done it without you."

"What would I do?" Sybil snapped. "I'm not going to _fight_ Malfoy."

"At least defend us!" Ron exclaimed.

She shuffled down in her seat and crossed her arms. "Don't order me around."

"I'm not, I'm just-"

"-Shut up," Sybil snapped. "Leave me alone."

She sat in silence for the rest of the train ride and she peered out the window. It was getting dark. She could see mountains and forests under a deep purple sky. The train seemed to be slowing down. Harry and Ron took off their jackets and pulled on their long black robes. Ron's were a bit short for him, you could see his sneakers underneath them.

A voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

Harry's stomach lurched with nerves and Ron, he saw, looked pale under his freckles. Sybil, however, continued staring out of the window. The boys crammed their pockets with the last of the sweets and joined the crowd thronging the corridor.

The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way toward the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. Harry shivered in the cold night air. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Harry heard a familiar voice: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?" Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads. "C'mon, follow me — any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!" Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Harry thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much. "Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

There was a loud "Oooooh!"

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers. "No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry and Ron and Sybil were followed into their boat by friend, Neville Longbottom. "Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then — FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles. "Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" said Hagrid, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.

"Trevor!" cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands. Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door. "Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?" Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Harry knew her instantly as Professor Minerva McGonagall. He rarely saw her as much as he used to, apparently, but her face was not a face you might forget.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the Potter's house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors. They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right — the rest of the school must already be here — but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose. Harry nervously tried to flatten his hair while Sybi, confidently thought that she looked fine herself.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

They kept their eyes fixed on the door. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead them to the Great Hall. Then something happened that made him jump about a foot in the air — several people behind him screamed.

"What the —?"

Harry gasped. So did the people around him. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance —"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost — I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years. Nobody answered. "New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?" A few people nodded mutely. "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start." Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall. "Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."

Harry got into line behind Sybil and with Ron behind him. They walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall. Harry had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place.

It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Harry looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. He heard Hermione whisper, "Its bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts, A History_."

It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens. Harry quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty, which Harry knew was the Sorting Hat — noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, he stared at it, too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth — and the hat began to sing his invented song Harry knew he sang every year.

It went on for a while, and once it was eventually complete, the Sorting began.

Sybil stared as students went up and down the stairs to be sorted. She paid little interest and stared at each of them as they were sorted. She was going to be one of the final to be sorted, she knew, and was perhaps only one or two names away from Harry. When he was called, it was her turn soon.

"Potter, Harry."

As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"_Potter_, did she say?"

"_The _Harry Potter?"

The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited. "Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, A my goodness, yes — and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting… So where shall I put you?"

Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought, _Not Slytherin, not Slytherin_.

"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the small voice. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that — no? Well, if you're sure — better be GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. He took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Gryffindor table. He was so relieved to have been chosen and not put in Slytherin, he hardly noticed that he was getting the loudest cheer yet. Percy the Prefect got up and shook his hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

Oliver Rivers and Sophie Roper were called up before Professor McGonagall called: "Rosier, Sybil."

Sybil did not gain the reaction Harry received, but never the less, she felt as if all eyes were on her, intently staring into her soul. On the outside she (hoped) she looked confident and certain, but inside her heart was beating like a bass drum and her stomach was lurching around in her body. She perched on the stool and the hat was dropped on her head.

"Hmh... Rosier, Rosier, Rosier... Most of you are brought up as Slytherin's, but you were brought up with Gryffindor's, weren't you?"

"Yes," Sybil replied. "My Papa died when I was young-"

"-Yet you take your Mother's name? Is there a reason for that? Did she prefer you to have a _pure blood_ name and not one otherwise?" Sybil made no answer. "I think it's clear where you belong, Miss. Rosier; you resemble all the characteristics your founder lusted: resourceful, cunning, ambitious, intelligence, power and _manipulation_."

"I am _not_," she persisted.

"I know you're a wicked person - you can't hide that from me. Bullying students, no concern for other people's feelings... Anywhere else would just exile you. You wouldn't belong. What do you think to Slytherin, the old battered hat asks curiously?"

"I'm fine with it," she said coolly, "my Mama was one."

"And your Father?"

"Gryffindor."

The hat laughed, as if it possessed its own personal joke. "Well then, it better be SLYTHERIN!"

She was not as shocked as she thought she would be. The hat was taken off her head and she pranced towards the Slytherin table with a big smile on her face, her hair was swinging behind her and she sat opposite the blonde boy - Draco Malfoy - she encountered on the train. She straightened herself out and Draco stared at her.

"This is Crabbe. And Goyle," he introduced the two ugly cronies on either side. "And I am Draco Malfoy."

"I know," she said, "what's your point?"

His mouth flashed her a smile. "Harry Potter can't be too happy about your new path, can he?"

"I don't _care_ about Harry; he doesn't control my life. He doesn't have a say in it."

The corners of his mouth twitched into a smile and he extended his arm. "Draco Malfoy."

"You said..." She trailed off and reluctantly took his hand; she didn't see any better offers of friendship. "Sybil Rosier."

His eyes flashed with joy and he repeated: "I know."


	14. Le Beau Serpent

**A.N**. Sorry this chapter is a little bit Sybil-based, and so will a few yet to come, but if you're bored with her don't worry; she'll be less included (hopefully) soon!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

**Previously: **Harry and Sybil go to Hogwarts, Harry goes to Gryffindor and Sybil to Slytherin.

**Contact: **satansbowtie**dot**tumblr**dot**com - **replace dot with **.

_Enjoy =)_

* * *

On her first morning at Hogwarts, Sybil woke to an unkind breeze on her body. She rolled over on her side and saw, that the wide window by her bed was wide open. Who had opened it? It was _freezing_ cold out. She got to her feet - flinching at the cold, wooden floor and slammed it shut. She climbed back into bed, but as she did, she noticed three out of the five beds were vacant. One was taken by Sybil and the other, by a pretty, dark haired girl pulling on her tights. Sybil looked somewhere for a clock and realized, that if her other dormitory mates were already up and awake, she was clearly late.

"I was going to wake you," informed the pretty girl who was getting dressed.

"What time is it?" Sybil asked.

"Eight o'clock," she learned. "Breakfast started half an hour ago, but lessons don't start for another hour. If you want to stay in bed for another hour, I can go down to the Great Hall and get your timetable from Professor Snape if you'd like."

"I can do that," Sybil answered. "Is anyone in the bathroom?"

"Yes," said the other. Sybil sighed and sat on her bed, rubbing her head. "So what do you think to Hogwarts so far?"

"Decent."

The girl smiled. "I'm Daphne Greengrass. You're Sybil Rosier, aren't you?"

"I am."

"It's nice to meet you," said Daphne.

She rose, and when she was stood up to her full height, it was apparent that she was _very_ tall. She was thin and had no curves. Her dark hair fell just past her elbows and she had a long, pale face and green eyes, but there was something in that face that showed kindness.

"Who are the other girls?" Sybil asked.

"I don't know," admitted Daphne. "I haven't met them yet." Neither had Sybil. She turned away from Daphne and opened her wardrobe, pulling out her uniform for the day. She neatly folded it on her bed and sat back down, staring anxiously at the bathroom door, waiting for the girl to come out. "You ought to rise earlier if you want to get in the bathroom."

"I woke late."

"I was awake at five o'clock - I hope I didn't wake you."

"No, the wind did."

"The wind?" Sybil gestured to the now closed window. "Oh, one of the girls complained she was too hot and opened your window. I was going to close it for you, but the steam from the bathroom-"

Sybil held up her hand. "It's fine. Who was it?"

"It was the girl who went into the bathroom just before you woke up."

"Right," Sybil mumbled.

The girl that came out was quite the opposite of Daphne; she was not at all pretty and was, actually, the complete opposite. She was short and chubby, with an ugly round face and short nose. She had a slight wheeze and seemed rather pretentious from Sybil's view, when Sybil received a scowl from the girl. Sybil did not respond, and hurried into the bathroom as not to be late for breakfast.

When she came out of the bathroom, twenty minutes later, Daphne had not waited for her and she was not in the slightest bit surprised. Sybil placed on her shoes, packed her bag with books, parchment and quill and ink and slipped out of the Common Room, closing the door behind her.

She tried her best to navigate her way out of the Dungeons, but it was increasingly difficult. She ended up tailing behind two fifth year boys by a few yards and eventually, made her way out the labyrinth. She looked around in the Entrance Hall for Harry, but could not find him so went into the Great Hall on her own. There, she founds Harry, sat with Ron at the Gryffindor table. She didn't know if she was allowed to sit at the Gryffindor table, but did so anyway, walking between the aforementioned table and Slytherin table and sat beside Ron. Neither objected to her sitting there and she noticed a variety of houses sitting together.

"Morning," Harry greeted. "Sleep well?" Sybil nodded. "How are you?"

"I'm fine."

"Did you write home?"

Sybil reached over for a slice of toast and began to butter it. "I didn't last night."

"I did," Sybil raised her eyebrows. "I thought you'd have already written home... Sorry."

"Oh well," Sybil sighed. "It's not anything to be _ashamed_ of... How's Neville then, did he manage to keep his toad?"

"It's in his drawer at the moment," said Ron, "have you made any friends?"

The only person she had spoken to was Draco Malfoy, and she could hardly call him a 'friend' or tell them that she'd been speaking to him; after yesterday, it was clear the three boys did not get along. She couldn't mention Daphne, either, because she had only spoken a few words to her and was as much of a 'friend' to her as Draco. Instead, Sybil shook her head and said: "I've just been tired. Have you?"

"Not yet."

"You will, Sybil - and if not, you've still got us." She smiled in mock gratitude, but it went amiss. "Have you gotten your timetable yet from _Professor Snape_? I can't believe our Dads didn't tell us he worked here! I'm sorry for you being in his house."

"Slytherin's not too bad; the Common Room is really nice."

"You should see Gryffindor's then; roasting fire and red carpets and sofas!"

"Ours is green," Sybil described. "Because, you know, it's in the dungeons, under the lake."

"Gryffindor's in a tower," Harry remarked. "So why didn't our Dad's tell us _Snivellus Snape _works here?"

"Perhaps they didn't know; they're not friends, are they?"

"You would have thought Dumbledore might mention it," Ron said.

Harry shrugged. "Maybe he didn't for a reason... I dunno... Did you get lost on your way down here - _up_ here?"

"No," Sybil lied. "I remembered it just fine."

"Have you got your timetable then?" Sybil shook her head. "Don't worry; we've got Potions together first in one of the classrooms in the Dungeons - you can show us the way now, can't you?"

Sybil was surprised about Harry's disconcert to her being in Slytherin, and wondered if James had written to him to tell him to be. She didn't care all that much, but it would have made the atmosphere that substantial bit less awkward if it was mentioned. Honestly, Sybil thought she would find herself hating life being in Slytherin, but so far, it had all gone well. Her Mama, after all, was in Slytherin and she was fine. Her Father... well... She didn't know what house her Father was in because her Mother never once mentioned him.

"Is it _actually_ a dungeon?" Ron asked.

She shook her head. "No; the chains and weapons were cleared out for us this time."

Harry laughed. "Hogwarts is..."

His attention was drawn away to two Gryffindor girls down the table from them. They were staring in their direction, and when the trio looked their way, the girls turned away and began whispering to each other.

"That's been happening all morning," Harry complained, flattening his hair over his scar.

"Don't do that; there's no point; everyone knows what you look like already, they remember you from the sorting. Give it a week or two and you'll be just another First Year to them."

"Do you really believe that?"

No she didn't. "Yeah," she dismissed. "Your fame will only last a little while, Harry, don't worry."

He scowled but still attempted to flatten his dark hair over his scar. It had begun to prickle, yesterday at the Sorting and he didn't know why. He had never experienced that before, and wasn't even sure if it _was_ his scar, or if he was just being paranoid. Harry daren't write home and tell his parents that in case they worried about pulled him out of school - which he was sure was not the case, as his parents were not cruel and over dramatic like that.

Speaking of over dramatic, after the trio had finished their breakfast, they were joined by Draco Malfoy. "Sybil. Come sit with us."

She turned herself around on the bench. He was stood, cross-armed and rigid, with Crabbe and Goyle either side of him. "I'm fine, thanks."

"You don't want to go around hanging with Half-Bloods and Blood-Traitors now, Sybil; you're a Slytherin. You want to be friends with the Pure-Bloods, not anything other."

"She can make her own friends," Harry snarled. "She can do what she wants."

"_She_ has a name," Sybil retorted and stood up next to Draco. "I'll sit with someone who respects me."

"Don't be silly Sybil," Ron said, "he didn't mean it like that."

"Draco's right; I shouldn't be mixing with Gryffindor's; I'm a Slytherin; I have to be making friends with people like me."

"What, so we're not friends anymore?"

Sybil cast a sideway look at Draco, Crabbe and Goyle, wishing for them to leave her but they stayed still. She returned her attention to Harry and Ron. "Of course we are... But I need to make friends with Slytherin's. You get that, right?"

"Of course I get that; you think you're better than us," said Harry coolly.

"Don't be so ridiculous-"

"-We get the hint," Ron interjected. "Go off with your new _Slytherin_ friends and leave us, the people you've known you're entire life."

"Thanks for your blessing then," she muttered sarcastically. "I feel so much better with your acceptance."

She turned her back on the boys, swung her bag over her shoulder and joined the Slytherin table beside Draco, Crabbe and Goyle. She acknowledged she had been too harsh on Ron and Harry, and was resisting the urge not to look over there or apologise, but what could be done? They weren't exactly reluctant to let her go, after all, but then again, she had been swayed by Draco so easily. Draco - a stranger, a supposedly _evil_ stranger - had overruled her, taking her away from two boys she had known her entire life, so why did she lack interest?

"Toast, Sybil?" Draco asked, pushing the silver tray to her. "You must be hungry."

"I had some toast earlier," she answered.

"Eat some more," Draco offered. "Look at Crabbe and Goyle: piling up their plates with sausages and you barely take a bite. What will the House Elves think of you?"

"That I'm not eating my way to being fat?"

"Crabbe and Goyle obviously don't care." Sybil laughed. "Have you got your timetable yet?" Sybil began to say that she didn't, but Draco handed her some parchment. "It was very easy for me to persuade Professor Snape to give me your timetable. I hope you don't mind."

"Why would I?" She asked, taking the timetable. "We have all the same lessons."

"We have Potions first, with the Gryffindor's-"

"-With the Gryffindor's-"

Draco flashed a smile. "You _are_ planning on sitting with us, aren't you?"

"I was planning on sitting with Harry-"

"-Don't sit with him," Draco advised. "Keep away from Gryffindor's; they do more harm than good."

She thought that should be the other way around: that Slytherin's did more harm than good than Gryffindor's, but she kept shut. "Have you studied much?" She asked.

"I read parts of a few books," said Draco, "Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts mostly."

She chewed her lip. "I barely opened mine."

"Then you're the same as Crabbe and Goyle - mind you, if they _did_ open their books, they'd have to look at the pictures - Merlin knows they can't even read!"

"I can read," Goyle argued.

"Sweet packets in Honeydukes don't count," Draco answered.

Cruelly, Sybil laughed and poured herself a glass of Pumpkin Juice. For the rest of breakfast, she stared silently down at her timetable, reading through it as Draco talked to Crabbe and Goyle and they could only listen. With fifteen minutes to the beginning of Potions, the four of them left the Great Hall, entered the Entrance Hall and walked down the stairs, into the dungeons and around the corridors until they found their classroom. They weren't the first ones there, and waited outside by the door for the start of lesson.

When the bell rang for nine o'clock, they were allowed in the class and they took their seats. They took a table by Professor Snape's desk but he was currently absent and Sybil watched Harry and Ron take a desk on the opposite side of the classroom, as if they were avoiding her. She tried not to take into offence, that over there was probably the only desk vacant, but she doubted that.

Professor Snape arrived, and he was a tall man with long, black hair and a long nose. He was as equally ugly as everyone described him, Sybil noted, and slouched down on her stool in hope not to be recognised or victimized by him.

He started with the register, and as he went down the names, he paused at Harry's. "Ah, Yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new — _celebrity_."

Draco, Crabbe and Goyle began to laugh and Professor Snape continued on with the register. "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Hermione Granger's hand was high in the air, and she was on the edge of the seat. Draco knew the answer, also, and wrote it on his parchment.

"I don't know, sir," said Harry.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer. "Tut, tut — fame clearly isn't everything." His eyes flickered around the class, and he landed on Sybil. She gulped. "Rosier, same question."

She didn't know the answer. Draco nudged her, and she looked down at the parchment beside her. "Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion known as the Draught of Living Death." He eyed her, and didn't say anything. "Thank you," she breathed to Draco and he didn't respond.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Harry didn't have the faintest idea what a bezoar was. "I don't know, sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter? Let's see if your friend Rosier knows the answer."

All eyes fell on her again, and she didn't know the answer. She looked down at the desk, and Draco had, once more, written the answer down. "In - in the stomach of a goat, sir."

"Thank you for writing it down, Malfoy," Snape jeered. "It seems your parent's insolence rubbed off on the two of you. So can either of you tell me, what is the difference between monkshood and Wolfsbane?"

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling. "I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "It seems only Mr. Malfoy had the decency to study from his books over the Summer. Five points will be awarded to Mr. Malfoy for his preparations and a point awarded to Miss. Rosier for the correct answers. Well, why aren't you writing this down?"

There was a scramble for parchment and ink and over the sound, Sybil dared thank Draco again. "It's fine," he dismissed. "We're Slytherin's; we stick together."

"I thought Professor Snape was going to kill me," she confessed. "He gave me a point for copying you!"

"Because you're a Slytherin. We have the honour of him favouring us. Now you ought to be quiet or he'll dock you a point for talking."

Sybil remained silent for the rest of the lesson and listened intently, copying down Professor Snape's notes for the lesson. The hour seemed to drag on, and a lot of people were relieved that the lesson was over. It was not the best first lessons, Sybil would admit, but at least she wasn't Neville, who had somehow managed to melt Seamus Finnigan's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes.

Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?" Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose. "Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville. "You — Potter — why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

This was so unfair that Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Ron kicked him behind their cauldron.

"Don't push it," he muttered, "I've heard Snape can turn very nasty."

As they climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Harry's mind was racing and his spirits were low. He'd lost two points for Gryffindor in his very first week —_why _did Snape hate him so much?

"Cheer up," said Ron, "Snape's always taking points off Fred and George."

The boy's climbed the stairs up to their Transfiguration classroom and after a long hike and _many_ wrong turns, they eventually found it. The class was taught by Professor McGonagall - their Head of House who Harry guessed wouldn't favour Gryffindor like Snape favoured Slytherin. The moment they entered their class, she gave them a stern talking to.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

"Why did she let my Dad come back, then?" Harry whispered to Ron. "In one of his first lessons he dumped a glass of water over Snape's head."

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger had made any difference to her match; Professor McGonagall showed the class how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione a rare smile.

"You would have thought," Harry complained after leaving the lesson. "That after knowing me _seven_ years she wouldn't treat me like just anyone!"

"But that's how you _want_ to be treated," Ron reminded.

"Not with her," Harry decided. "Not with Dumbledore."

"You can't expect special treatment, Harry," came a voice to Harry's right, and it was Hermione Granger. "I understand that you're famous, and that's obviously _very_ good-"

"-I don't remember asking for your advice," said Harry, "haven't you got some kittens to drown?"

Ron snorted with laughter, as did Seamus Finnigan and his friend and Harry's dorm mate, Dean Thomas. Hermione glared at Harry and stormed off. "What's rattled her cage?" Asked Seamus Finnigan.

"Merlin knows," Ron sighed. "Three more lessons until the end of the day! We better go and find the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom before we earn ourselves detention."

* * *

"Three more lessons until the end of the day!" Sybil exclaimed. "Has it really gone so quickly?"

The Slytherin's had just had Herbology, and were walking up from the Greenhouses with the Ravenclaw's. She walked up with Draco, Crabbe and Goyle had to stay behind to clear up some mess. Draco, shocked turned to Sybil. "You _enjoyed_ Herbology?"

"Of course not," she dismissed. "I'm not going to be a _gardener_, so who needs Herbology?"

Draco laughed. "It's too hot in there. How about we miss tomorrow's lesson and say we got lost and caught by some painting?"

Sybil almost stopped dead in her tracks. "You mean _skive _off lesson?"

"Skive, truant, get lost, same difference, really."

"I've never done it before," she confessed.

"Neither have I, but that's because I've never gone to school. We might as well, we can just find a classroom somewhere or stay in the common room - no one will rat us out."

"But if Professor Snape catches us..."

"He'll be teaching," Draco explained. "Come on Sybil, it'll be fun."

She bit her lip. "Won't we get into trouble?"

"I'm your friend, why would I want to get you into trouble?"

A 'friend' was something Sybil lacked at Hogwarts, and she could really do with the social skills. She smiled at the ground, ideally meant at Draco and put on her Slytherin robes. "It is only our first week."

"Which is why no one would suspect us truanting! Come on, you're not _scared_ are you?"

"Of course not!"

"Then leave it to me," Draco said, "and I won't have you stuck for two hours in a stuffy greenhouse deweeding plants."

She knew that truanting was wrong, but Draco was her friend and she didn't have many of those, and she _really_ wasn't looking forward to spending two hours in the boiling hot greenhouse. So she complied, and agreed to spend that afternoon with Draco and probably Crabbe and Goyle. She wondered what she would do - the boy's would probably talk about Quidditch; that was what Harry and Ron used to talk about, and she and Callie would find something else to do... But that was Harry and Ron she was talking about; Gryffindor's and immature ones of that. Draco was mature and sophisticated for an eleven-year-old, and although she knew no one would approve, she found the idea of missing lessons to spend with a mysterious boy... _entrancing_.

* * *

That evening in the Slytherin common room, Sybil composed her letter to her parents. She chewed on her quill as she sat by the fire with Daphne, trying to figure out what to write. Daphne had already started on her Transfiguration Essay, and Sybil didn't plan on doing that for a while. Daphne was helping her write her letter, thinking of good words and phrases for her to use. This was nearly impossible for her to write, and would be, no doubt, heartbreaking for her Dad to read. She tried not to dwell on that, and just wrote the letter as best as she could.

_Dad, Mama and Castor,_

_So I'm at Hogwarts, and I'm writing this to you, in my new common room, in the evening, after my first day and it's been pretty unbelievable._

_We had Potions first, and I have to agree with you that Professor Snape is a bit of an idiot. He called out on Harry and I to answer a question that's probably at sixth year level! I got the answer, though, only because I copied it from one of my new friend's. See, Castor, I can make friends. You're really going to enjoy Hogwarts when you get here (if you ever get here)._

_Herbology is definitely my least favourite subject - it's actually pointless. She seemed almost scared to have me in her lesson, and I'm sure Harry is the same. He probably sends his love, but I wouldn't know, because I think he hates me right now._

_I know, you must be shocked that two best friend's such as Harry and I have fallen out so suddenly, but you're probably already aware why, because Harry had the opportunity to write to Uncle James and Aunt Lily last night where as I did not. So I'm going to go ahead and tell you: I'm in Slytherin._

_I don't know what you're reaction will be, whether you're worried or shocked or angry or pleased, and Harry will no doubt tell you that it's a bad thing that I'm there, but it's actually a very good house. I've made a nice friend: Daphne Greengrass, she seems really sweet and intelligent (she's helping me write this letter, and she's very intellectual which is probably why it doesn't sound like me). I'd hate it if you resent me for being in Slytherin, because I'm still your daughter, your flesh and blood, and would you love me any less if I was in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff? No. You'll only dislike Slytherin because of it's 'bad reputation' but it's honestly not like that in here, and some of the people you warned me about are nice. Harry will tell you otherwise, but Draco Malfoy is a very nice person._

_I'm sure things will work out between Harry and I, because he can't be so petty to judge me on my new house. I didn't care that he was in Gryffindor, and you never really told me I couldn't be in Slytherin. Mama, you were in Slytherin and even said it wasn't too bad. Dad, however, you hated them, and you'll look past that in me._

_I don't want to ramble on, and can you send a letter with our owl, please, and not the owl I'm using at the moment? It's Daphne's, and she needs it after me._

_Please write soon, I love you lots and miss you terribly,_

_Sybbie._

She folded the letter and pushed it aside. Her wrist and hands were uncomfortable, and Daphne stopped writing her essay to see her final reaction. "It'll be fine," Daphne soothed. "They'll love you no matter what."

"Easy for you to say," Sybil grumbled. "You weren't brought up being told that Slytherin's were evil."

"Your Mama was a Slytherin," the other reminded. "At least she won't be mad."

"My Uncle was a Death Eater," Sybil informed. "I think that's what they're worried about - me turning into one."

"You never could," said Daphne. "You're too much of a good person."

"I've been called many things, but a 'good person' is not one. In a few weeks time, you're going to change your mind."

"Everyone's a good person; there's no bad inside anyone."

"Really? I can think of a few bad people."

"They don't believe themselves to be bad, they believe they did _good_ things to make the world a better place."

"It still doesn't make what Voldemort did excusable."

"_Shh_," Daphne hissed.

"You must be used to his name spoken here."

Daphne shook her head. "No one calls him by his name - why did you?"

"I - I always have!"

"Well don't!" She warned, a look of terror on her face. "If you say anything bad about You-Know-Who the Slytherin's are going to make your life hell."

"I won't say anything about him then," she decided. "I'll keep quiet."

Daphne looked around and collected herself. "That's a good idea. Sorry for getting angry, I was just worried, that's all."

"It's fine," Sybil mumbled. "Can I use your owl? Is he up in the Owlery?"

"Yes," said Daphne. "But it's seven o'clock, we won't get back in time - someone will catch us for sure."

"I have to send the letter by tonight! Dad and Mama will think I'm ignoring them if I don't!"

"I'm not getting caught, sneaking around with you in the dead of night on our first _day_!"

"It's only seven o'clock - Merlin's beard Daphne where's your sense of adventure?"

"I have a sense of adventure," Daphne claimed. "I just don't want to get caught out of bed on my _first_ night here!"

Sybil - who was going to stay behind with Daphne and wait 'til morning - caught sight of Draco walking down the staircase with a letter (or so she presumed) in his hand as well. She snatched hers and rushed to Draco. He stopped when he saw her, to avoid a collision.

"Are you going to the Owlery?" Sybil inquired.

"Don't tell me not to, that it's too late, because Nott already warned me and-"

"-No, no - I need to go to; I have a really urgent letter that needs to be sent by tonight and if I don't, my parents are going to think I'm ignoring them!"

Draco raised his hand. "I didn't ask for your life story, okay, but I'll take it up for you."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to risk _you_ getting _me_ caught."

"And there I thought you were just being chivalrous," she commented. "Alright then, take my letter. Use Daphne's owl though, you'll know which one it is: it's the big black one with yellow eyes-"

"-I remember," Draco cut in. "I saw it at Breakfast. Big black one with yellow eyes, I got it."

"Don't read it," she warned.

"I won't," he replied. "Your business is your business. I don't care if you're trying to get back into your parents' good books."

"Thank you," she smiled. "I'll see you back later."

* * *

Draco kept to his word. He did not read the letter and used Daphne's owl to send it. It arrived back in London near midnight, and by that time, her family were in bed. The owl dropped the letter by the window and flew back. Sirius received the letter at seven o'clock in the morning, when he saw her letter stuck against the window pane.

He already knew about her Sorting from James, who had gone to visit him the morning he found out. Sirius wished he had heard the news from Sybil, and not from James who heard it from Harry. He deserved an explanation, and when he read the letter, he didn't get one. Judging by the letter, she had been busy settling in with her new friends and lessons, so he made that her excuse.

When Helena came down the stairs, ready and dressed for work, she noticed the letter Sirius was holding. "Is that from Sybbie?" Sirius nodded. "Let me read it."

"She's in Slytherin," Sirius stated.

"I know - James told us... Sirius, you're not _bothered_ by that, are you?"

He shook his head. "No - no of course not, it doesn't change anything. Only..."

"Only, what?"

"She's my daughter! I - I wanted her to be in Gryffindor like I was - with Harry and her friends. Is that too much to ask?"

"Yes," said Helena, "Sirius, Sybbie's a smart girl, she's not going to do anything stupid. Slytherin might be a good opportunity for her to be with other people like her."

"Like her?"

"You know what Sybbie's like, she's head-strong."

"Head-strong," Sirius laughed. "That's one word to describe her."

"Remember, she can't be like you," Helena reminded.

Sirius scowled. "Yes, because she's not my biological daughter. I get it, right."

"No, that's not what I meant. I mean, that she can't be like you because she's her own person. Our daughter's a good kid, and she'll do well wherever she goes. She could have been in Gryffindor and I wouldn't love her any less. Or she could have been in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff and I wouldn't have cared. It's only one house she'll be in for seven years. Time will go by."

"I know," Sirius sighed. "I just worry, that's all."

Smiling, Helena walked to Sirius and wrapped her arms around his neck. The pair had an odd relationship. In the eyes of the law, they were not married, but in the eyes of everyone else, they were. They had been together almost seven years, and loved each other as much as a couple married that long would.

"We all worry; we're parents, that's our job."

"What I do worry about, however, is the fact that she's friends with Lucius Malfoy's kid - is she out of her mind?"

"I do agree that is a little bit foolish of her," said the Mother, "but I'm sure the friendship will be short-lived when she realises how ridiculous she is for befriending him."

"I hope you're right," Sirius claimed. "I need to get ready for work. Shall I wake Castor up for you or?"

"Let him sleep," Helena decided. "He's got school in four days."

"How I envy them," Sirius confessed, getting out of the kitchen chair. "They have so much to live for - so much to work for. I'm getting in the shower - ah look: our pride and joy is awake." Sure enough, the aforementioned Castor arrived in the Dining Room, fully dressed yet still feeling sleepy. "You're actually dressed, have plans for the day?"

"Going to meet Jake and Callie," Castor explained. "We got any toast?"

"I'll make some," Helena said and did so.

Castor took his place at the Dining table and Sirius - deciding against a shower, sat opposite him. Castor turned to his Father, "because Sybbie's in Slytherin, does this mean I'm your favourite?"

"We don't have favourites," Helena remarked.

"Yeah, you say that, but when I'm in Gryffindor you know you'll love me mostest."

"We'll love you _more_ when you can get your words right," Helena scolded. "What do you want on your toast?"

"Jam."

"Jam what?"

"Jam _please_. Actually - can you just put it in a tissue or something and I'll go and knock straight for Jake?"

"He lives twenty minutes away, you're not walking all the way through London to get him."

"I'm not six," Castor complained. "I can cross a few roads on my own."

"You can floo," Helena said.

"Or you can go on your bike," said Sirius.

"Flat tire."

"Then you'll have to floo."

Castor threw his head back. "What's the difference between walking and biking? If someone holds a gun to my head they're not going to say 'oh no men he has a bike, we better not kill him today'."

"Don't be cheeky," scolded his Mother. "Your Dad will pump your tire up for you unless you want to cut half the time and floo."

"I won't go out," Castor decided. "I'll stay in."

"You can write to your sister then," said Helena, "tell her how much you miss her."

"I don't miss her!" Exclaimed Castor.

"You do; you're bored without her."

"I'm _happy_ without her. Can I floo to Jake's then?"

"Yes, you can," replied Helena. "As soon as you've written to Sybbie."

The child groaned and pulled himself out of his chair. He retrieved some parchment, quill and ink and composed his letter to his sister. It was a short one - no more than half a page, but it was good enough for Helena and Sirius. Helena put it on the side so that she could send it off later with one she would write herself to her daughter.

Castor may not be missing his sister, but Helena was certainly missing her daughter.

* * *

_**Would you please check out my poll? About Callie's house!**_


	15. A Miserables Catastrophe

The Lupin family were a considerable less size than the Potter's or the Black's. In fact, it was _half_ the size, and only consisted of one Father and a Daughter. They were a complicated family, as the Mother died on the day her Daughter was born and the Father was a werewolf. Other than that, they could easily pass as a normal family.

The Father, Remus Lupin, was a sensible man and lived a sensible life. He brought a comfortable, three-bedroom house in Central London near his Daughter's school and only had a small mortgage to pay off monthly. He worked for the Ministry of Magic and had a good income, but what with spending money on taxes, medicine and his Daughter, he rarely had much money left over for him. He was a werewolf, and once a month, his Daughter stayed with the Potter's. He had many scars on his face, bruises on his arms and gashes on the rest of his body. The wounds did not make him ugly, but he was not all handsome, either. He had thin, slowly greying, sandy blonde hair which was roughly cut and olive green eyes. He was tall and slim - unintentionally - and gave the impression that he was rather rundown. Remus was not poor, but with his wages it was just enough to fund two.

His Daughter was Callie Lupin, an incredibly bright and gifted Witch who looked nothing like Remus. She had light, shoulder length, brown hair and had Remus' olive eyes. She was small, and her type of small couldn't even be classed as 'cute' she was just short. She was thin, too, like her Father, and not all that handsome, though she was pretty. She was quiet and collected, too - reserved, and Remus had a strong suspicion that was mostly his fault, because he was a lousy Father, who was ill twelve weeks of the year, continuously. Her only friends were Jake Potter and Castor Black - and a lot of the time she didn't even _like_ them, she just had to put up with them.

Callie hated Primary School. She was in year four, and had only two years left at St. Oliver's until she went to Hogwarts like Harry and Sybil. She missed having Sybil around; a girl to talk to when all the boy's were discussing Quidditch or other tedious subjects, and now Callie _had_ to participate or be faced with being on her own. Sybil had always been kind to Callie, and the pair had been best friends. Now Callie was scared Sybil would forget her and leave her for her Slytherin friends. She hadn't even received one letter from Sybil and it had been a week. She'd promised to write, but that had been a lie.

So on the morning when Callie was due to start back at school on the eighth, there was still no letter from Sybil and she hoped, that Sybil would give her _something_ to be happy about for her first day, but nothing.

School was embarrassing.

She had no friends in her class. She had Jake and Castor, granted, but they had other friends they would probably much rather spend time with. Castor felt that way, and he would leave Callie to play football with them. Jake would never leave Callie, and she was very grateful for that. Jake was Callie's best friend, but Castor was Jake's.

Callie liked doing work at school, because it took her mind off stuff and drew attention away from herself. She was lucky not to be picked on like the other girl in her class that had no friends. Callie suspected Castor had put a word in with the others in the class to leave Callie alone, and they mostly did. Not wanting to break that, Callie stayed silent in class and sat at the back whenever possible. she never raised her hand in class and never moved around the classroom for supplies. She was invisible.

However, she was not invisible to the girl's in her class. They never said anything _to_ Callie, but she heard their snide remarks about her. Calling her out on her hairstyle - which was no different to anyone else's. The only thing they were right about was her uniform; it was tatty.

She never received new uniform, as her Father couldn't afford it. She had only one maroon cardigan with a missing button (which Remus could never sew back on) and frayed sleeves. She also had only three polo shirts - one was in perfect condition, but the others were stained, tatty ripped. Her grey skirt was cheap, and Remus could afford _that_ every year, as well as her thick, grey stockings she wore underneath. The school uniform was _ghastly_ and the shoes Callie wore were scuffed with a hole in the sole. She did her best to conceal that from her Father as to not waste his money, and the shoes were not _that_ damaged.

On the Tuesday morning she returned to school, she had a wash and got herself dressed and dragged herself downstairs. Remus was finishing a report at the kitchen table and didn't even glance up when Callie arrived. It wasn't until she opened the fridge and poured herself out a glass of orange juice did he acknowledge her, and that was to ask for some juice.

Remus wasn't a bad Father, but Callie resented him for the fact that he could be better. She knew it wasn't his fault he was a werewolf or had an ill-paying job now, but it _was_ her fault he had to do this all alone; she killed her Mother, after all.

There were very few pictures of Lydia Greengrass in the home. There was one on the mantelpiece over the fireplace, one in Remus' bedroom and one on Callie's nightstand. She was a beautiful Witch, and Callie was ashamed she bore no resemblance to her, even though everyone told her otherwise.

Earlier than usual that morning, there was a knock on the Lupin's door. Callie was the one who was closest, and let the person in. It was Jacob Potter - soaking wet with his hood pulled up - rushing into the house and shutting the door behind him.

"What are you doing here?" Callie inquired, backing up as to avoid being drenched in rain water.

"I made it rain," Jacob confessed.

Callie glanced out the window, and opposed to thirty seconds ago, the sky had cleared up and the sun was streaming through the kitchen window. "How did you do that?"

"I - I don't know!" Jacob exclaimed. "Is your Dad up?"

Right on cue, Remus walked into the hallway. He glanced at Jacob, then out the window. "What in Merlin's name happened to you."

"I fell in a lake," Jacob mumbled. "I made it rain!"

"Oh Merlin," Remus whispered. "Did anyone see you?"

"I don't know!" He cried. "There - Muggles went by in their cars like they do and some probably saw me!"

"Did it rain everywhere?" Callie questioned.

"No - this cloud just followed me for ten minutes until I ran here and got inside! Oh Merlin I've told Muggles about magic, haven't I? Dad's going to go _crazy_ and Mum's going to kill me, bring me back to life and then kill me all over again! Uncle Remus, you've got to help me!"

Remus only laughed. "Sit down by the fire and dry off. I'll tell your Dad what's happened; they'll be wondering where you are," the trio walked into the living room and Jacob dropped to his knees in front of the fireplace. "Accidental magic happens to all young children, Jake. Your parents will understand."

"Exactly," Callie agreed sitting cross-legged beside him. "Who would believe someone if they told? Who's going to believe a woman who claims a nine-year-old boy was being chased by only one raincloud?"

"What if they tell the Muggle Aurors? What if I have to go to Azkaban!"

"You're not going to go to Azkaban," Remus reassured. "And if you do, I'm sure Uncle Sirius will be your Lawyer and make sure you get no longer than five years."

"Five years?" Jacob echoed.

"He's joking," said Callie quickly, "you can't go to Azkaban for using magic like that you didn't even mean to use! Remember when Harry accidently destroyed the Muggle shop? He never got into trouble for it; a few people went and wiped the Muggle's memories."

"Callie's right; you're not going to get into trouble over something like this. You ought to tell your Mum and Dad though."

"I can't go home! What if it starts to rain again?"

"Floo them then," Remus decided.

Jake did so, and five minutes late, James Potter emerged out the fireplace. Lily was not present, as she had left for work twenty minutes previously to set out for Cairo. They were sure she would want to be present for this, as it was a large milestone in any young Witch or Wizards life: their first bit of major, accidental magic. Callie had not had hers yet, and Remus was anxious for the day it would arrive.

"I had a similar occurrence," James confessed to Remus. "When I was eight I set our shed on fire."

"That's not _too_ bad."

"Let me finish; I set the shed on fire in front of almost one _hundred_ Muggles whom all came to our Manor on the hill for our Welcoming Party my Mum host."

"What made you do it," asked Remus.

"I didn't like all the people in my new home," he admitted. "I know it sounds silly, but I was _jealous_ these people got to spend all this time in our house. Mum was really frightened that someone would see me or had been hurt. Dad, on the other hand, just laughed."

"He _laughed_?"

James nodded. "He suggested to one person that we all gather round and toast marshmallows and sing campfire songs. Needless to say, no one ever returned to our Manor and we were known by the Villager's as 'The Rich Family on the Top of the Hill with the Weird Dad'."

"What did your Mum think to all this?"

"She went ballistic that Dad could be so nonchalant about it and scare the neighbours. She was really angry with him. I miss them."

"I miss mine," Remus confessed. "But life comes and goes. You lost your Dad in June and had Harry in July, I lost Lydia and gained Callie within a day and Sirius lost his whole family in the space of an hour. I'd give anything to have Lydia back, and I know you would for your Mum and Dad."

"I would. I'd give anything to have Harry back now and not off at Hogwarts. Lily misses him like crazy already; she was crying all night last night."

"I have that pleasure to look forward to in two years."

James laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, so do we all, Moony. So do we all. I think it's been hardest on Sirius, though; I haven't seen him for almost a week."

"Helena came round yesterday," Remus informed. "None of us were surprised though, were we?"

"I was," he confessed.

"Why? Helena's a Slytherin and Sybbie's Dad is a-"

"-Bastard?"

"I was going to say he was a Slytherin, too."

From the Kitchen, James dared a glance at the two nine-year-olds chatting to each other by the fire. "We don't talk about Sybbie's Dad, remember? We don't even mention him - Sirius wasn't even meant to tell _us_ what he did, let alone allow word get back to Sybbie."

"She'll find out soon enough; Merlin knows someone will do background research on her Father and find out he-"

"-_Moony_-"

"-They're not listening-"

"-We promised Sirius we wouldn't repeat it! Just change the subject, alright?"

"I met him once, at the park-"

"-Yes! And he used a fake name so you wouldn't call the Aurors! A fake identity, personality and everything! Sybbie's Father is an evil bastard, which is why Sirius is worrying so much about her being in Slytherin and being friends with Draco Malfoy! She'll find out and resent them forever - _Merlin_ knows what will happen if she takes his name..."

"Sirius will be heartbroken," Remus suggested. "Why is it that we always seem to have to keep secrets from our children?"

"Because we love them, and can't bare to see them get hurt? If Harry and Jake knew half the stuff I know about then they'd be scarred for life. Harry, I'm sure, will find out pretty soon. Jake, on the other hand, I'm hoping he will never find out."

"And when Jake finds out, Castor and Callie finds out," James nodded in agreement. "Oh Merlin, why do our lives have to be so complicated? They were all going so well."

"They still are," James interrupted. "The only difference is, is that Harry and Sybbie have started Hogwarts, Sybbie is in Slytherin and socialising with a bunch of Death Eater's children. We're lucky Voldemort isn't back."

"Wouldn't that be the icing on the cake," Remus muttered sardonically. "I mean, it's not as if our lives aren't messed up enough as it is, without throwing Voldemort back into the ring."

"He's not back," James reminded. "But I fear the day he does return."

"Don't we all?" Remus inquired. "We all knew it couldn't last, and Albus predicted, that because Harry is away from his family he might prove a bit less of a threat to Voldemort and attempt an attack. But Harry's with Albus, and Voldemort wouldn't _dare_ try anything with Albus around."

"I wouldn't put it past him," James sighed. He glanced down at his watch and shuddered. "Is that the time? Jake, Callie - you need to get going to school otherwise you're going to be late."

* * *

School was, so to speak, boring. It was a waste of time for the two Wizard's and one Witch, whom sat mindlessly at the back of class every lesson twiddling their thumbs and paying the occasional, minimal amount of attention. It was Callie whom found school the trickiest to deal with. It wasn't the lessons, but the socialising. As she had no friends other than Jacob and Castor, she retired to spending all of her time with them. Sometimes, Castor would leave Jacob and Callie to play football with his friends. Jacob was always invited, but he could never leave Callie. He was a better friend to Callie than Castor, but Callie still found herself always favouring Castor over Jacob.

He always sat in the middle, with Jacob on his left and Callie on his right. Perhaps it would look better if Callie was in the middle, but Castor was insistent on being in the middle. The 'main one' in their crew, the 'leader', but the other two knew he couldn't survive without them. He needed Callie's brains and Jacob's friendship - which was why, he spent half his time talking about the three of them being in Gryffindor, because he grew up with them: depending on them.

Castor was an awful friend, though. If he got a better offer, he'd leave Callie and Jacob behind to be with his other friends. Jacob never would; he'd never leave Castor and Callie. Callie, however, had no other better offers, so sat with Jacob or Castor everyday, and could never leave them.

They'd sit on the stairs, behind a brick wall, every break and lunchtime. They were invisible to everyone else, which was just the way they liked it. It was a regular day in October at lunch: Castor was off with his friends, leaving Callie and Jacob alone. It was more often the two of them than the trio.

"He plays football so well, doesn't he?" Callie gushed, watching Castor kick a ball around.

"No," replied Jacob.

"He does," Callie insisted and turned back to Jacob. "Jealous?"

"Of Castor's football skills? No. When we go to Hogwarts, no one will be there to play Football with him, only Quidditch. I'm the better Quidditch player by _far_ and that's all that matters."

Callie snorted. "He's faster than you on a broom."

"Why do you keep defending Cas?" Jacob demanded.

"I'm not!" She exclaimed. "I just said I think he's a good Football player! I'm joking about Quidditch, Jake; you're better than him."

"Thank you."

Just then, the bell went. They collected their lunchboxes, put their rubbish in the bin when they passed it and left the small playground.

Their classroom was on the first floor, and had been their room since they had been four-years-old. They had the same teacher Ms. Menzies for five years and the same classmates, so there was no need for introductions on their first day. They sat in the same seats with the same people every day, and at the beginning of every school year, it was like they never left.

Castor arrived in the classroom after Jake and Callie and settled himself in between them. It was one o'clock, and by this time, their lesson would be something like Music or P.E or Science, but not today. In big letters on their chalkboard at the front of the class, Ms. Menzies wrote:_ Les Misérables_and then went on to ask if anyone knew what it was.

Allison Piper's hand shot straight into the air. She was a pretty, popular and pretentious girl who had joined the school two years ago. She was the girl everyone hated, but pretended to love. She was light haired with light hairs and yet a dark personality. Callie hated her. Jake hated her. _Everyone_ hated her but everyone wanted to either be like her, or be friends with her. Or both. "It's a book," was her reply.

"Very well done Allison! Do you know who it was written by?"

"A French man," Allison guessed.

Ms. Menzies liked Allison - and Ms. Menzies hated everyone. She was a short and stout woman with a nazly voice, long nose and growth on the top of her lip. She was widowed, and the class had a speculation that she had killed her husband - though that was _very_ untrue.

"Can you name me one character?"

Allison hesitated. "Cosette."

"There are many characters in a Les Miserables, and is a book we will all be very familiar with once we have performed it. I shall be passing round script's for you and your groups to look at. This will give you a chance to understand characters and choose which ones you wish to audition for."

"I'm going to audition for Cosette," Allison announced. "I went to see Les Misérables once with my Grandma and Grandad and cousins and I thought it was _fantastic_!"

Jake, Callie and Castor shared a script towards it and the three of them - not really reading it - turned the pages and pretended to be interested. "Are you going to audition for anything?" Castor inquired.

"No," Callie answered. "I'm going to ask if I can work on the scenery. I've never even _heard_ of this book before!"

"Mum was reading it once," Jake recalled. "Harry told me there are _prostitutes_ in it."

"We're nine! Why are we doing a book with prostitutes in?"

"Ms. Menzies only puts on performances that she likes. Last year, it was Oliver Twist and the year before Evita. Ms. Menzies will cut out the prostitute scenes, obviously."

Their conversation was cut short by Ms. Menzies calling them out in front of the class. Castor thought that Ms. Menzies picked on him the most - but that was what all students thought when they had a wicked teacher. It was probably the blonde haired, Jewish boy who sat at the front of the class she disliked the most because he had an awful cold permanently, sneezing all the time, but Castor always overlooked that.

"You three, over there. What parts will you be trying out for?"

Quickly, Castor's eyes fell onto the booklet and read, "Eponine."

A giggle emerged from the girl's on the far left of the classroom, and Ms. Menzies glared at him. "So Castor, you'll be trying out for the part of Eponine - a _girl_, will you?"

"Oh, no," he flushed quickly. "Uh, Jean Valjean. Yeah, I'll try out for him."

"Interesting choice. Jake, what about you?"

He remembered only a few names from the script, and chose, "Gavroche."

"Gavroche?" She echoed. "My what an _interesting_ choice! Callie, what about you?"

"I - I don't want to be in it," said Callie.

Silence spread across the classroom, and Allison had to stifle her laughter. Ms. Menzies glared at Callie, and she could feel herself go red in the face. "Who gave you that decision, Miss. Lupin, that you decide whether or not you wish to try out for _my_ play."

"I won't be any good," Callie informed. "I can't sing."

"Everyone can sing," Ms. Menzies objected.

"Not me. I can't sing and I _won't_ sing."

"You're trying out first then, and I'll be the judge of that."

They went over the context of the play: the escaped convict Jean Valjean adopts the young girl Cosette and looks after her. Years later, she meets Marius who she falls in love with, but is in a few days going to fight in the Barricade for the freedom of France. Later, Marius and Cosette marry and Valjean dies. It seemed simple, but the class of 5ME were confused to the point where they gave up half way through.

The next morning, they had to audition. Each of them owned a copy of their script each, now, and had taken it home to practice their designated lines. Neither Jake nor Castor not Callie knew what they were going to audition for; neither of the three _wanted_ to audition at all, but it was forced.

True to her word, Ms. Menzies made Callie audition first in the hall. She was grateful they were alone, and with shaking hands, Callie climbed onto the stage and addressed Ms. Menzies."

"What role are you trying out for, today, Callie?"

"A-Azelma," she answered.

Azelma was a character with only five or six lines. No singing and was only a background character. Callie wouldn't have minded one bit if she didn't get the role and someone like Allison did; she was that devoted to not getting the part.

"Go ahead."

"He's coming I tell you! He'll be here any minute! He's the man, who always gives money to beggars - he gave me money last week! I told you about him! On Sunday's he gives corn away outside the Church!"

That was all Callie memorised, and Ms. Menzies stared at her. It wasn't a look of anger or pleasure, either - but one Callie was rather confused about. "That was, actually, very good." It pained her to compliment the student. "What will you sing?"

"I won't," said Callie.

"You must!" Ms. Menzies pranced to the piano and opened it. "You are a rather good actress, Callie. What will you sing?"

"I don't know any," she admitted.

"What about the part we sang in class?"

"I don't - I can't."

She began playing the introduction, nodding at Callie to start singing. She was still shaking and stared down at the lyrics on her sheet and sang. Ms. Menzies stopped at the first verse, and Callie wasn't surprised she was awful. "Thank you, Callie - take a seat behind me and together we can watch the rest of the participants." Callie complied, taking a seat in one of the seats she would normally take in assembly. The next to come through was Allison, who pranced onto the stage with a merry and confident air about her. "What will you be auditioning for, Allison?"

"Well," she began. "Yesterday afternoon I was _definitely _going to be Cosette, but then I remembered Fantine's amazing song so I learned that instead and wanted to be Fantine. This morning, I changed my mind because Fantine's not in it as much as Cosette and people will forget me. So I'm going to be Cosette."

Ms. Menzies beamed at her. "You're so confident, Miss. Piper! Go ahead!"

She cleared her throat and began to sing. The notes emancipating out of her mouth were _captivating_, even for one so young. Once Allison had finished her solo, Callie found herself clapping alongside Ms. Menzies. Allison took a bow and when dismissed, skipped off the stage and went to sit beside Callie. She wasn't sure what her motives were, but as soon as Ms. Menzies left the hall, her intentions were clear.

"What role did you try out for?" She demanded, her angelic voice turning into an intimidating one.

"Azelma," Callie whispered.

"Why would you want to try out for _her_? She's nothing but a hideous thief with no lines!"

"I don't want lines," Callie answered. "I don't even want to be in the play." Allison scowled at her, if not sure whether or not to believe her. "I thought you sang really well."

"I know," Allison admitted and twirled away from Callie, sitting the other side of the hall.

The other twenty-three people tried out for the role. Jake was a few people after Allison, trying out for the role of Gavroche and did so very well. He rushed about the stage like instructed and jumped off it when the performance was complete. Castor was a little more serious in his audition for the part of Jean Valjean. He was not a fantastic singer, but a great performer. He was more suited to the part of Azelma's Father, Callie opinionated, but the boy after him, Toby Davis, who went for the role of Monsieur Thenardier was pretty spectacular.

Once all the auditions had finished, Ms. Menzies had a few minutes to herself to confirm the roles while the students chatted to each other. No other girl auditioned for the part of Cosette, Callie noticed, and Jake informed her that Allison had a 'friendly word' with all the girl's in the class to ensure that wouldn't happen. Most of the girl's tried out for Eponine and Fantine, because of that, and Allison was destined for the part of Cosette.

The minor parts were read out, and Callie was devastated that the role of Azelma went to Zoe Freeman and not her. When the other female, minor roles were read out (there were three) Callie was terrified she was going to get the part of Fantine or Eponine or - _Merlin forbid_ - Cosette.

"Javert will be Matthew Hastings. Jean Valjean is Spencer Darwin while Monsieur Thenardier will be played by Toby Davis. Jake Potter, you are to be Gavroche, joined by Castor Black who will be Marius Pontmercy-"

"_What_?" Castor asked, starting to laugh. "You're joking?"

"Not at all," Ms. Menzies shook her head. "You sang your song _brilliantly_ for Jean Valjean, but there was something that told me you were _destined_ to be our Marius!"

"Is that insanity, because there's no way I can play Marcus!"

"Marius!" Allison - whom was as passionate about the play as Ms. Menzies - exclaimed. "Ms. Menzies, he doesn't even know his character's name! Surely this is a mistake - you can't give the role of _Marius_ to him!"

"Quiet, Allison; I think he will be a _superb_ Marius. Now, Enjolras will be played by George Banks - don't groan, George. Now, Fantine will be played by Victoria Budgen and the role of Cosette to Callie Lupin."

Allison literally jumped up in shock. Callie, on the other hand, stayed rooted to the chair, mouth open in shock. "YOU TOLD ME YOU WENT FOR AZELMA!"

Callie was too shocked to answer, so Ms. Menzies did for her. "No, don't worry Allison I read it out wrong. _Cosette_ will be played by you, and _Eponine_ played by Callie."

While Allison's nerves had been calmed, Callie was very opposite. Castor started to sniger. "I'm having to be in love with _you_?"

"No you idiot!" Came Allison's shrill voice. "You're in love with _me_! Eponine's in love with Marius - not the other way around."

"I was about to say... Ms, why did you make Cal Eponine? I mean, she didn't _want_ to be her in the first place."

"Your friend Callie sang I Dreamed a Dream _extraordinarily_ well. So well, in fact, I didn't even need her to sing the whole song. Just the first nine lines were enough to convince me that the perfect Eponine Thenardier was stood right before my eyes! My girl, you could be on the West End!"

"I don't think so," said Callie. She rushed to Ms. Menzies, leaning over her piano. "Please don't make me be Eponine! I can't sing in front of people; I'm much too scared."

"Nonsense! That's called _stage_ fright, my dear."

"Then what do you call never answering questions in class - because I'm too scared to do that!"

Ms. Menzies sighed, and smiled at the small girl. "I really think this will boost your morale, Callie, and help you make friends-"

"-I don't _need_ friends."

"Of course you do. Do you think Castor and Jake are going to be with you forever?"

"Not Jake," Callie grumbled miserably. "Castor will always be tagging along by my side."

"Allison's a lovely girl, and I'm sure the two of you will get along _superbly_ in this musical! You'll get to wear pretty dresses and sing _beautiful_ songs!"

Callie turned her back on Ms. Menzies and walked away. Why in Merlin's name Ms. Menzies decided to put her on for the role as Eponine was beyond her, and how could she think Castor would be a half-decent Marius? This was all so wrong. This was all so wrong...

* * *

It was quite often that the Black, Potter and Lupin family would have dinner together on a Friday Night, and the Friday night the children auditioned for the play was no different. The trio had decided not to tell their parents about what roles they got until it was Dinner, and by the time it was Dinner, all the adults were anxious to know.

"Come on then, what part has my son landed?" Sirius inquired as Dinner began. "I hope it's better than last year when you were just another street rat."

"I've got the lead part, actually," Castor proudly informed.

His Father's eyes widened, and everyone around the table was quiet. "Really? Oh Castor, that's amazing! Who are you?"

"Marius Pontmercy."

Lily gasped from across the table. "That's fantastic, congratulations! Who's the lucky girl who gets to play Cosette?"

"Allison Piper," Jake informed. "She's really good."

"Almost as good as Callie."

The eyes turned to Callie, who under watch, felt the back of her neck prickle. "What part did you get?" Remus asked, suspecting Castor was joking. "Who are you?"

"Eponine Thenardier."

Again, Lily gasped. She was the only one with knowledge on the novel. However, that was soon likely to change if the children needed people to help with lines and lyrics and stage movements like they did last year.

"Who's that?" Helena asked.

"She's in love with me," Castor stated, batting his eyelids at Callie. "But I'm in love with Cosette."

"That's really good," Remus congratulated. "I wish you'd told me sooner. Your Mother would be so proud of you!"

It was a simple acknowledgement that made the others smile and nod in agreement. To Callie, however, it made her sick to her stomach. Now how could she go on as the role of Eponine? It would make her Mother proud. How could she live up to that expectation after that? Then, she caught Jake's glance from across the table, and he saved her from embarrassment.

"I play Gavroche! He's Eponine's Brother - Gavroche Thenardier. He dies."

"They all die," Castor said, "apart from Marius because he's the best."

"It seems like we have three little Starlets in the room tonight," James commented. He raised his glass, tilting it slightly towards Helena, who was the second to raise her glass of wine. "To our talented kids!"

"To our talented kids."

* * *

_**check out my new poll folks, vote for what house castor should be in.**_


	16. Blaise's Offer

_Mum, Dad and Jake,_

_Where do I begin? It's almost been my second month at Hogwarts already! We've written twenty two times to each other since I arrived, and I am pleased to tell you that this is going to be your favourite letter for one big reason. I can't tell you all at once, because so many dramatic things caused this all to happen - this amazing chance of fate! We've not been allowed to tell anyone yet, and I couldn't wait to tell you! Jake, you're going to be so jealous of me and Dad, you're going to be incredibly proud and Mum you'll probably cry. It's a silly, dramatic story that has taken place over the course of the week. _

_It all started when Draco Malfoy stole Neville's Remembrall one morning, when we had just found out we would have Quidditch lessons with the Slytherin's..._

* * *

It was a Thursday morning, just before post was due to arrive, and the Gryffindor's and Ravenclaw's, Hufflepuff's and Slytherin's were enjoying breakfast. The first-year Gryffindor's had just received the news that they would have their first flying practice that afternoon. Harry was excited for practicing and showing off. He wasn't trying to be arrogant; he just knew that he was a good flyer.

It was a rare morning that Harry did not receive mail from anyone, so enjoyed his breakfast without having to read any letters. The plump, round-faced boy opposite him called Neville Longbottom did, however, receive a letter. It was a package from his Grandmother, and he opened it.

"It's a Remembrall!" he explained. "Gran knows I forget things – this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red - oh..." His face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet, you've forgotten something..."

Neville was trying to remember what he'd forgotten when Draco Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand.

* * *

_You can see this was a pretty horrid thing for Malfoy to do, and you can understand why I would retaliate._

* * *

He was with Crabbe and Sybil. Crabbe paid complete interest in the matter and Sybil, however, was talking to Pansy Parkinson - one of her new friends. It wasn't until Professor McGonagall arrived did she pay attention to the rumpus.

"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor."

Scowling, Malfoy quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table and Professor McGonagall left the table. "You little snitch," Malfoy hissed through gritted teeth. "You'll pay for that Longbottom."

"And what are you going to do?" Harry asked. "Is Crabbe going to fight your battles?"

"Shut up Harry," Sybil snapped. "Don't be such a fool."

"Listen to Sybil, Potter; you might just learn a thing or two about manners," advised Draco. "We'll see you on the Quidditch pitch."

* * *

_I really thought Sybbie and I would work things out by now, but almost two months later and she hates me still. I'm lucky she hasn't started calling me 'Potter' yet, like the rest of her Slytherin gang. she's obviously putting on an act for them, but I only wish she could see sense._

_At half past three, after our lessons had finished for the day, us and the Slytherin's went down to the Quidditch pitch. It was really great weather for flying, too - but that's not the point of my story._

* * *

There were ten Gryffindor students and ten Slytherin students present. Without order, the Slytherin's stood on one side of the line beside brooms and the Gryffindor's on the other. They were taught by Professor Hooch - a tall lady with black cropped hair and a sharp voice. She was stern and severe - not alike from Professor McGonagall, actually.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

The broom was no where near as good as the one Harry had at home: the Nimbus 250. On Harry's, there were twigs sticking up at random places and the wood had peeled off the stick. He stared at it in dismay, kicking it lightly with his foot. It didn't do anything, and the broom didn't damage anymore (if possible).

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!"'

"UP" everyone shouted.

Harry's broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. Hermione Granger's had simply rolled over on the ground, and Neville's hadn't moved at all. Perhaps brooms, like horses, could tell when you were afraid, thought Harry; there was a quaver in Neville's voice that said only too clearly that he wanted to keep his feet on the ground. Sybil's rose only after three or four commands, Harry noted. The two Gryffindor boys were delighted, when being shown how to mount a broom, that Malfoy had been doing it wrong for years.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle - three - two -"

* * *

_This is where the trouble comes in. You see, you remember Neville - we know him well. He's always had a slight tendency to be clumsy and forgetful and downright idiotic... This is one of these times. _

* * *

Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle - twelve feet - twenty feet. Harry saw his scared white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and – WHAM - a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay face down on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher, and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight.

Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his. "Broken wrist," Harry heard her mutter.

"Come on, boy - it's all right, up you get."

She turned to the rest of the class.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him. No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter. "Did you see his face, the great lump?"

The other Slytherin's joined in. "Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati."

"Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's Gran sent him."

The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up. "Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry quietly. Everyone stopped talking to watch.

Malfoy smiled nastily. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find - how about - up a tree?"

"Give it here!" Harry yelled, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. He hadn't been lying, he could fly well. Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak he called, "Come and get it, Potter!"

Harry grabbed his broom. "No!" shouted Hermione Granger. "Madam Hooch told us not to move - you'll get us all into trouble."

"Yeah Harry," Sybil jeered coolly. "Do what your girlfriend tells you."

Harry ignored her. Blood was pounding in his ears. He mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground and up, up he soared; air rushed through his hair, and his robes whipped out behind him -and in a rush of fierce joy he had missed after two months of only staying on the ground. He pulled his broomstick up a little to take it even higher, and heard screams and gasps of girls back on the ground and an admiring whoop from Ron.

He turned his broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in midair. Malfoy looked stunned. "Give it here," Harry called, "or I'll knock you off that broom!"

"Oh, yeah?" said Malfoy, trying to sneer, but looking worried.

Harry leaned forward and grasped the broom tightly in both hands, and it shot toward Malfoy like a javelin. Malfoy only just got out of the way in time; Harry made a sharp about-face and held the broom steady. A few people below were clapping.

"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Harry called.

The same thought seemed to have struck Malfoy. "Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground.

Harry saw, as though in slow motion, the ball rise up in the air and then start to fall. He leaned forward and pointed his broom handle down - next second he was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball - wind whistled in his ears, mingled with the screams of people watching - he stretched out his hand - a foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight, and he toppled gently onto the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist.

"HARRY POTTER!"

His heart sank faster than he'd just dived. Professor McGonagall was running toward them. He got to his feet, trembling.

* * *

_Mum, you're probably shouting and raging at the moment. Jake, you're no doubt laughing and Dad, you're probably very proud. This isn't an explanation to why I've been expelled - I didn't get into any trouble for this at all, actually. Shamefully, Malfoy didn't either. Neville escaped with a broken wrist and Malfoy escaped scot-free. Git._

_McGonagall may seem angry to you at the moment, but actually, she was feeling very much the opposite._

* * *

"Never - in all my time at Hogwarts -" Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, "- how dare you - might have broken your neck -"

"It wasn't his fault, Professor -"

"Be quiet, Miss Patil

"But Malfoy -"

"That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now."

Harry caught sight of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle's triumphant faces as he left, walking numbly in Professor McGonagall's wake as she strode toward the castle. He was going to be expelled, he just knew it.

He wanted to say something to defend himself, but there seemed to be something wrong with his voice. Professor McGonagall was sweeping along without even looking at him; he had to jog to keep up. Now he'd done it. He hadn't even lasted two months. He'd be packing his bags in ten minutes.

Up the front steps, up the marble staircase inside, and still Professor McGonagall didn't say a word to him. She wrenched open doors and marched along corridors with Harry trotting miserably behind her. Maybe she was taking him to Dumbledore. He thought of Hagrid, expelled but allowed to stay on as gamekeeper. Perhaps he could be Hagrid's assistant. His stomach twisted as he imagined it, watching Ron and the others becoming wizards, while he stumped around the grounds carrying Hagrid's bag.

Professor McGonagall stopped outside a classroom. She opened the door and poked her head inside. "Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?" Wood? thought Harry, bewildered; was Wood a cane she was going to use on him? But Wood turned out to be a person, a burly fifth-year boy who came out of Flitwick's class looking confused. "Follow me, you two," said Professor McGonagall, and they marched on up the corridor, Wood looking curiously at Harry. "In here."

Professor McGonagall pointed them into a classroom that was empty except for Peeves, who was busy writing rude words on the blackboard. "Out, Peeves!" she barked. Peeves threw the chalk into a bin, which clanged loudly, and he swooped out cursing. Professor McGonagall slammed the door behind him and turned to face the two boys.

"Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood - I've found you a Seeker."

* * *

_I'm not lying - I'm going to be Gryffindor's new and youngest Seeker! I could have danced a jig right there right then, but I was a bit too stunned to do so. Oliver Wood looked just as shocked as me - and who can blame him? An eleven-year-old boy was just about to become their Seeker. He hadn't seen me play and I was too young be accepted. Gryffindor needed to win; they hadn't won a season in years. So I was surprised how friendly and welcoming Oliver and the rest of the team was._

* * *

"Are you serious, Professor?"

"Absolutely," said Professor McGonagall crisply. "The boy's a natural. I've never seen anything like it. Potter, you've played Quidditch before, haven't you?"

Still shocked, Harry could only nod and stammer: "Y-Yes."

"He caught that thing in his hand after a fifty-foot dive," Professor McGonagall told Wood. "Didn't even scratch himself. Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it."

Wood was now looking as though all his dreams had come true at once. "Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?" he asked excitedly.

"Wood's captain of the Gryffindor team," Professor McGonagall explained.

"He's just the build for a Seeker, too," said Wood, now walking around Harry and staring at him. "Light - speedy - we'll have to get him a decent broom, Professor - a Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep Seven, I'd say."

"I - I have a Nimbus two-fifty at home," Harry replied. "I could write to ask my parents for a Two Thousand; I'm sure they'd cough up."

"I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can't bend the first-year rule. Heaven knows, we need a better team than last year. Flattened in that last match by Slytherin, I couldn't look Severus Snape in the face for weeks..." Professor McGonagall peered sternly over her glasses at Harry. "I want to hear you're training hard, Potter, or I may change my mind about punishing you."

* * *

_So, in your next letter will you pretty please send me a Nimbus 2000? It can be an early Christmas present, seeing that I'm going to be the youngest seeker in a century. Surely, because of that, you can spare a couple of galleons and get me the best broom?_

_If you think all the drama of the day stopped here, you're wrong._

_I was having Dinner with Ron that evening, telling him all about me being a Seeker, Wood and McGonagall when we were joined by some unwanted guests. Already, we had had Ron's brothers: Fred and George come to congratulate me, who know I was on the team because they were too, on the team as Beaters. This time, it was Draco Malfoy, looking for a fight._

* * *

"Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to your parents?"

"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," said Harry coolly.

There was of course nothing at all little about Crabbe and Goyle, but as the High Table was full of teachers, neither of them could do more than crack their knuckles and scowl. "I'd take you on anytime on my own," said Malfoy. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only - no contact."

"Fine with me," Harry said, "Ron's my second, who's yours?"

"Of course he has," said Ron, wheeling around. "I'm his second, who's yours?"

Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up. Instead he glanced over their shoulders to the Slytherin table. "Sybil."

"_Sybil_?" Harry echoed. "No, I'm not fighting her."

"What's the matter, Potter? Scared you're going to lose to a girl?"

"No, I just won't fight her."

"Then you're lucky that I _never_ lose Wizard Duels," he said scathingly. "Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."

When Malfoy had gone, Ron and Harry looked at each other. "He - he's not being serious, is he?"

"I think he might be," Ron concluded.

"I've never fought anyone before! I've never had a duel! I don't even know any defensive spells - what do I do? What if he kills me?"

"People only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy'll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway."

"And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?"

"Throw it away and punch him on the nose," Ron suggested.

"Nice, then what about Sybbie?"

"You know she's not going to be awake at midnight to duel you and besides, there's no _way_ she would agree to it."

"Excuse me."

* * *

_Scared Mum? You shouldn't be. Disappointed, again, you probably will be, but it should be kind of wiped from your memory because I am about to be THE YOUNGEST SEEKER IN A CENTURY. I just want to put that out there in case you've forgotten and want to ground me when I get home for Christmas..._

_Our second unwanted guest was Hermione Granger. I think I've mentioned her before? Short, bad hair and big teeth? Well, just in case I haven't or you've forgotten, I'm going to tell you the most important thing about Hermione Granger: she's the most annoying nerd with no friends you could ever imagine._

* * *

They both looked up. It was Hermione Granger.

"Can't a person eat in peace in this place?" said Ron.

Hermione ignored him and spoke to Harry. "I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying -"

"Bet you could," Ron muttered.

"-and you mustn't go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really very selfish of you."

"And it's really none of your business," said Harry.

"Good-bye," said Ron.

* * *

_At nine o'clock I lay in bed, waiting for Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan to fall asleep. Neville was still in the Hospital Wing and Ron was staying awake with me to go down to the corridor._

_When it was half past eleven we went to the Common Room, where we were confronted by no other than Hermione Granger. She ordered us back to bed, that we were going to get ourselves expelled and we should have probably listened to her. We went out into the corridor and when Hermione turned around to go to bed, the Fat Lady had gone, and we had no other choice but to bring her with us._

_Then we met Neville along the way, and he had to come too, apparently._

_Then when we got to the Trophy Room, it was empty and no one was there and we did, in fact, come across a loud, scratching noise. It was Filch, and it was at that moment I knew we had been set up by Malfoy. You might say I told you so, and I definitely deserve it._

_If you're wondering why I'm telling you this, it's so I won't need a false story as to how and why we stumbled across a three headed dog. But I'm getting ahead of myself._

* * *

"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner." It was Filch speaking to Mrs. Norris.

Horror-struck, Harry waved madly at the other three to follow him as quickly as possible; they scurried silently toward the door, away from Filch's voice. Neville's robes had barely whipped round the corner when they heard Filch enter the trophy room.

"They're in here somewhere," they heard him mutter, "probably hiding."

"This way!" Harry mouthed to the others and, petrified, they began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armor. They could hear Filch getting nearer. Neville suddenly let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run -he tripped, grabbed Ron around the waist, and the pair of them toppled right into a suit of armor.

The clanging and crashing were enough to wake the whole castle.

"RUN!" Harry yelled, and the four of them sprinted down the gallery, not looking back to see whether Filch was following - they swung around the doorpost and galloped down one corridor then another, Harry in the lead, without any idea where they were or where they were going - they ripped through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled along it and came out near their Charms classroom, which they knew was miles from the trophy room.

"I think we've lost him," Harry panted, leaning against the cold wall and wiping his forehead. Neville was bent double, wheezing and spluttering.

I - told -you," Hermione gasped, clutching at the stitch in her chest, "I - told - you."

"We've got to get back to Gryffindor tower," said Ron, "quickly as possible."

"Malfoy tricked you," Hermione said to Harry. "You realize that, don't you? He was never going to meet you - Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off."

Harry thought she was probably right, but he wasn't going to tell her that. "Let's go."

It wasn't going to be that simple. They hadn't gone more than a dozen paces when a doorknob rattled and something came shooting out of a classroom in front of them.

It was Peeves. He caught sight of them and gave a squeal of delight.

"Shut up, Peeves - please - you'll get us thrown out." Peeves cackled.

"Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty."

"Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please."

"Should tell Filch, I should," said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. "It's for your own good, you know."

"Get out of the way," snapped Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves this was a big mistake.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed, "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR"

Ducking under Peeves, they ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor where they slammed into a door - and it was locked.

"This is it!" Ron moaned, as they pushed helplessly at the door, "We're done for! This is the end!"

They could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could toward Peeves's shouts.

"I think we'll be okay- get off, Neville!" For Neville had been tugging on the sleeve of Harry's bathrobe for the last minute. "What?"

Harry turned around - and saw, quite clearly, what. For a moment, he was sure he'd walked into a nightmare - this was too much, on top of everything that had happened so far.

They weren't in a room, as he had supposed. They were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now they knew why it was forbidden.

They were looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog that filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction; three drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs.

* * *

_I'm honestly not lying to you. Before us four little first years, was an enormous three-headed-dog preparing to eat us. We were oblivious to how we got into this part of the castle, and even more confused as to why, in this part of a castle, was a three-headed-dog trying to eat us. You're going to have to have a word with Dumbledore; he's going crazy if he thinks it's a good idea to keep big dogs as pets. He's almost as bad as Hagrid!_

* * *

It was standing quite still, all six eyes staring at them, and Harry knew that the only reason they weren't already dead was that their sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was no mistaking what those thunderous growls meant.

Harry groped for the doorknob - between Filch and death, he'd take Filch.

They fell backward - Harry slammed the door shut, and they ran, they almost flew, back down the corridor. Filch must have hurried off to look for them somewhere else, because they didn't see him anywhere, but they hardly cared - all they wanted to do was put as much space as possible between them and that monster. They didn't stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.

"Where on earth have you all been?" she asked, looking at their bathrobes hanging off their shoulders and their flushed, sweaty faces.

"Never mind that - pig snout, pig snout," panted Harry, and the portrait swung forward. They scrambled into the common room and collapsed, trembling, into armchairs.

It was a while before any of them said anything. Neville, indeed, looked as if he'd never speak again.

"What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?" said Ron finally. "If any dog needs exercise, that one does."

Hermione had got both her breath and her bad temper back again. "You don't use your eyes, any of you, do you?" she snapped. "Didn't you see what it was standing on?"

"The floor?" Harry suggested. "I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads."

"No, not the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something." She stood up, glaring at them. "I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed - or worse, expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."

Ron stared after her, his mouth open. "No, we don't mind," he said. "You'd think we dragged her along, wouldn't you.

But Hermione had given Harry something else to think about as he climbed back into bed. The dog was guarding something...

* * *

_It's not only Dumbledore I want you to ask about, but could you find out what it's guarding? It must be something dangerous if a MONSTER is having to guard it from us. Please find out what's going on for us; I want be able to sleep at night not knowing why there is a man-eating beast in my new home._

_Anyway, Happy Halloween! Have a good night! Make sure you send me some of Jake's chocolate and sweets because I can't get any here and I'll see you all at Christmas! Give my love to the others, won't you?_

_Love always, Harry_

* * *

The Slytherin first year's sat in their Common Room late into the night. They were some of the last to go to bed, actually. Five stayed up: Draco, Crabbe, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson and Sybil. Draco was laughing to himself and talking to the others in the grand armchair. Pansy stood close to him in awe and Crabbe sat against the stone wall by the fire listening to him intently. Blaise and Sybil, however, sat on one of the armchairs together, studying for the History of Magic quiz tomorrow.

Blaise Zabini was smart and charming with tan skin and amber eyes. Sybil would be lying if she said she wasn't attracted to him, because she was - like every other girl whom she shared a Dormitory with. She had heard Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode gossiping about him the other evening and tried to withhold herself from joining in the conversation. He was _very_ handsome and alluring.

"Does he ever shut up?" Blaise muttered under his breath. "He does think highly of himself."

Sybil giggled. "Draco talks about himself like he's the Minister of Magic."

"Why do you put up with him?" Blaise asked. "Spend more time with Daphne - or me."

"You're friends with Theodore, though," Sybil stated, referring to the dark haired boy whom Blaise and Draco shared a dormitory with. "I don't know him."

"Then make friends with him. You sit just a few seats away from him in Transfiguration, start a conversation."

She raised her eyebrow. "How do you know where I sit?"

"You sit a few seats down from my best friend and I sit behind you. I'm sure to notice you and your big head blocking McGonagall's notes on the blackboard."

Sybil laughed quietly, her hand reaching for her head. "My head's not that big."

"Not as big as Malfoy's I'm sure."

He was well-spoken and a reasonably good person. She had never once heard her parents mention someone in the Zabini family, so she was certain their friendship could mean no harm. They began to start talking again, until Draco cut them off.

"Aren't you listening to me, Zabini, Sybil? We're mocking Potter and his stupid red-haired sidekick Weasley."

"Haven't you got anything better to do?" Blaise asked. "Get yourself a hobby - join Gobstones club."

"Or you can try out for the Slytherin Quidditch team," Sybil suggested.

Draco scoffed. "Don't be foolish, Sybil, I can't try out; first-years aren't allowed."

"So why is Harry Potter the new Gryffindor Seeker?" The four pairs of eyes turned to her. "Uncle James and Aunt Lily got a letter from Harry this morning and Mama and Dad wrote to me this evening telling me. I thought you knew and that was why you challenged him to a duel."

"This is outrageous!" Draco exclaimed, jumping out of his chair, almost knocking Pansy over in shock. "My Father _will_ hear about this. Sybil, our parents are on the Government Board for Hogwarts, _surely_ they can do something about Potter's special treatment."

"There's nothing they'd be able to do; it's Dumbledore's choice, not theirs."

"This is absurd!" Draco cried. "Favouritism! All just because he's the Boy-Who-Lived."

"If I didn't know any better, Malfoy, I'd say you were jealous."

Draco spun round to Blaise, but it was Pansy who spoke up for the first time, to someone other than Draco. "Why would he be jealous of _Potter_? Draco's much better than him."

"Apparently not at Quidditch," said Sybil.

"Going soft, Rosier?" Draco scowled.

"Happens to them all," Pansy noted. "As soon as Potter gets the slightest chance of glory Sybil's back on his side. We see your _true_ colours now Sybil, and so does Draco. Why, you ought to-"

They didn't get to hear what Draco ought to do, because he interrupted her. "McGonagall's only allowing Potter on the team because his Father's good friends with the Professor's."

"He caught Longbottom's Remembrall from fifty feet in the air," Blaise stated. "That's pretty remarkable."

"I don't remember asking for your input, Zabini," Draco spat. "Get back to bed; you're ruining my good mood."

"What are you happy about, Draco?" Pansy inquired.

"Only Potter being kicked out of Hogwarts, of course. That would wipe the wretched smirk off his arrogant face - he put my family to shame."

"I don't think _he_ was the one who put your family to shame; I think it was your Father, who helped _murder _the Prewett twins."

Draco jumped up and reached into his pocket for his wand. It was not there, however, and all he could do was clench his fist and glare at Sybil. "Dare you speak to me like that. At least my Father didn't abandon me."

"_Abandon_?" Sybil echoed. "My Father _died_!"

His pale, thin lips turned upwards into a sneer. "You ought to ask your Mother about that, Rosier."

"I know plenty-"

"-I don't want to argue about this with you," Draco told her. "I'm going to bed, and I'm going to forget you ever insulted me in such a way."

He spun on his heels and marched up to his Dormitory. Goyle followed after him, leaving Pansy, Sybil and Blaise in the Common Room. Pansy glanced at Sybil and rushed up the other staircase to her dormitory. This left Sybil and Blaise behind.

"Ignore him," Blaise suggested. "He doesn't know anything about you. He shouldn't have said those things to you, I'll have a word with him."

"Don't," Sybil began. "There's no point."

"Of course there's a point-"

"-He was telling the truth."

Blaise's eyes widened. "Don't let him make you _believe_ that."

"I don't remember much of my Father," she admitted. "And all the memories I have of him were he and Mama fighting over me... I - I don't think it was my Father who abandoned me, but Mama."

"Your Mama? You live with your Mama..."

"She - She got me back, obviously... But I remember staying with Father for nine months while Mama was pregnant with my younger brother Castor. Before and after that, I don't really remember much about him. He introduced me to his son - my half-brother and his own son, but I can't remember their names or their faces."

"Do you know your Father's name?"

She shook her head. "Mama never told me. My Uncle Remus met him once and said he went under the name Isadore. That's the closest thing I have of him, I suppose."

"Do you _want_ to find him?"

"He's dead, Blaise. He died of Dragon Pox."

"No, I mean, do you want to know who he really was?"

Sybil shrugged. "I don't know. Mama wouldn't like it."

"I'm sure she wouldn't - but what would you like to do? You might have more brother's and sister's out there, Uncle's and Aunt's, Nieces and Nephews that you don't even know about. My Father died when I was seven-years-old, and since then, I've had four stepfathers. I met each of their families and I still consider, some of them, to be my cousins and Aunt's and Uncle's. I think you'll regret it if you don't try and find out who he was. Would your Mama have photographs of him?"

Sybil didn't know, but she suspected she had not. "She hated my Father, so she definitely wouldn't have photographs of him. She was really happy when he died, and she expected me to be, too, and was angry when I cried..."

"That's unfair. I'll help you find out who your Father is, if you like, Sybil."

She turned to him. "And what's in it for you?"

"Nothing - I'm just offering my help."

She considered it for a moment, and was very tempted by his offer. Sybil knew her Mama would be devastated if she discovered what she was doing, and she couldn't do that to her. So she shook her head, and rose. "Thank you, but no thank you. I already have a Father and he's a good man. I don't need to find my other and only discover what I already know, that he's scum."

"Is he though?" She did not know. "My offer still stands whenever. Good night, Sybil."

She turned around and smiled at him. "Night, Blaise."

* * *

_Sybbie,_

_How did your History of Magic test go? I'm sure you did fantastically well and got top of the class! James tells me Flying Practice was a few days ago - did it go alright? I know you're a fantastic flier even if you are scared of heights. I remember my first few months at Hogwarts and you're doing a lot better than I thought you would be. You are doing much better than even I did in my first months; you've made much more friends and got higher marks and rarely been lost! I'm proud of you!_

_Castor's performance in Les Misérables on for 17th December - would you like us to book tickets for you? I know Castor won't admit this, but he'll want his big sister there in the audience for him. He's playing Marius - the main part and he's learning his lines well. He's anxious to know more about Hogwarts, so if you could write him a letter separately putting his mind at ease, that would mean a lot._

_Keep studying hard and know we all love you lots and miss you. Uncle Remus and Callie send their love, as do Aunt Lily, Uncle James and Jake. Your Dad and I do especially and cannot wait to see you at Christmas._

_Love always,_

_Mama, Dad + Castor._

Helena read out the letter to Lily and then folded it up. "Is that okay? Do you think I should send that?"

"Helena, Sybbie's not going to judge you on the content of the letter, you know that? What you've written is heartfelt and sentimental, and I'm sure she's going to love it like she does with all the other letters."

"I know that, Lily, I'm just worried for her. That's all."

"Worried?" Lily echoed. "Why are you worried for her?"

The brunette let out a sigh. "She's friends with the Malfoy scum."

"Yes, but she's also friends with the lovely Daphne Greengrass! We met her once or twice when she was younger and she was such a Darling. Who are her other friends?"

"She seems to be friends with all the Slytherin's in her year, and that's what is worrying me. Crabbe, Goyle and Nott are known Death Eaters as well as Malfoy. The only other boy in their year - so we're told - is Blaise Zabini, and we all know what her Mother is like; she's a-"

"-Tart?" Helena nodded. "I know; she slept with Sirius once or twice."

Helena frowned. "That's not really helping, Lily... All her husband's have mysteriously died."

"_Tragically_ died."

"And they all conveniently left her a hefty sum of money? Anyway, are you sure the letter's not too needy? It's just that Sirius is worried Sybbie won't come home for Christmas."

"He thinks she'll stay at Hogwarts on her own?"

"Or go to Malfoy's."

"She's not going to go to Malfoy's," Lily reassured. "If on the rare chance that she did, we'd go and get her, wouldn't we?"

Helena nodded. "I don't know if I want to go back there."

"He's gone, Helena, don't worry about it."

"I'm not worried; I saw him die. I found his body."

Lily patted her best friend on the arm. Though the two women were quite opposite, they were close friends. There was something, perhaps, about mutually being married to a Marauder that drew two women together. "Don't talk about it. Are you going to send the letter or not?" Helena went to fetch Sariah - the family owl - from the kitchen window sil where she was asleep, and sent her off with Helena's letter to Sybil. "Don't you worry," Lily began. "Everything is going to be fine."


	17. Callie's Conundrum

**A.N: **Quick update - you'll get another one tomorrow and the day after but no more for two weeks (America for two weeks looking at a University: college). Trying to cut down on the Sybil scenes, but if you do have any interactions you want to see happen with her - or Callie, Jake, Castor etc. just include it in the review!

* * *

(Halloween Morning)

From the day that was Halloween, to the end of October, Hogwarts was a very dramatic place to be. It was not a specifically dangerous time for the Gryffindor's. It was no more dangerous for the Slytherin's or the Ravenclaw's or the Hufflepuff's. It would not matter if you were in First-Year or Fifth-Year or Seventh-year. Hogwarts was an eventful place to be.

On special events such as Halloween, St. Oliver's students rarely did any work. Ms. Menzies seized this opportunity to book out the hall for her students to practice their performance. According to her calculations, she still had forty-seven days to perfect their performances. They still did not know all their lines off by heart, and that displeased her.

"Castor! I want to be able to hear your voice at the back of the hall! Shout to me – pretend I'm the only one in the room and your voice needs to be able to reach me! Allison, Callie, you're doing perfectly... Callie, start us off please!"

It was a scene between Castor, Callie and Allison. It was their dress rehearsal, so Allison wore a beautiful, pink gown while Callie wore a moth-eaten brown dress which was rather uncomfortable. Unsurprisingly enough, the dresses worn matched the clothes they would normally wear. Allison would wear expensive clothes from boutiques, while Callie would wear whatever was cheap.

They restarted the scene. The scene was the Attack on Rue Plummet, and it was tricky for Callie to do the scene without Monsieur Thenardier, who was at the Dentist. So she started from her last verse.

"I'm gonna scream I'm gonna warn them here!"

She screamed, and Castor and Allison rushed forward. Castor was gripping Allison's hand, and they threw themselves against the cardboard gate.

"It was your cry sent them away. Once more 'Ponine, saving the day. Dearest Cosette, my friend 'Ponine brought me to you, showed me the way! Someone is near, let's not be seen... Somebody's here."

It was Jean Valjean. The scene ended promptly and the class gave a round of applause. The team got off the stage, Castor on front, talking to Spencer Darwin (Jean Valjean) and laughing. Allison took the rear, and when she was off the stage, she grabbed Callie by the arm and dragged her away.

"Ouch – oh, Allison, what do you want?"

Allison glanced behind her and over Callie's shoulder. She seemed nervous, and chewed on her light lips. "Do you know if Castor's going out with anyone? If he likes anyone?"

"Likes anyone?" Callie echoed.

Allison nodded. "Normally, I can see the signals for myself if a boy fancies me – it's kinda obvious, really... So does he like anyone, as in, fancy?"

Allison was into Castor? That whole idea was laughable. Callie wasn't even aware that Allison liked Castor in general, let alone romantically. The elder girl did not know if Castor liked anyone; Castor rarely told Callie anything. If anyone knew, it was Jake.

"I don't know – you should ask Jake," Callie informed.

"I can't ask Jake about Castor; they're best friends!"

"So? Castor and I are _good_ friends."

"You're a girl. I can't talk to Jake about _girl_ things. Can you ask Jake for me. Don't tell him I like him though, in case he doesn't like me back... I just think he's so handsome! Isn't he handsome, Callie?"

Callie stumbled. She didn't think of Castor in a handsome way, she thought of him as an annoying brother. She risked a glance to the boy in question's direction and Callie had to disagree with Allison on this; Castor was not good looking. There was no appeal to him in Callie's opinion, and if they hadn't been brought up together, she'd probably hate him. He was always rude to her, calling her names and picking on her, but in his defense, Callie was just as bad as him. If Allison and Castor got together, it might take his mind off bugging her, and after doing the play together, Callie learned than, genuinely, Allison was a nice girl – not unlike from herself, actually. It was a good thing for her to do, Callie guessed, so she agreed to help Allison.

"Thank you," Allison appreciated. "If you want any help getting someone, I can help you. What about Spencer, he's cute?"

She looked at Spencer Darwin, who was stood with Jake and Castor. He was not ugly, but he was not handsome. "No thank you."

"Why not? I think he likes you."

Callie laughed. "As if. I'll go and ask Jake for you – and you don't have to pretend to be nice to me so I'll do it."

Allison frowned. "I wasn't pretending, Callie, but thank you, anyway."

So Callie complied and left the blonde standing alone. She wasn't all sure if she should be doing this for her; after all, she had spent five years of her life shying away from people like Allison, and Allison – undoubtedly – making snide remarks about Callie with her giggling friends, such as Victoria, whom played Fantine.

Callie approached the boys and stood between Jake and Spencer. If Allison was right about Spencer liking Callie, he was obviously very good at it; he paid no heed that Callie was stood right behind him. Gently and discreetly, Callie laid her arm on Jake's and led him away. He followed her a few paces to the right against the wall.

"Yes?" He asked.

"Allison fancies Castor," Callie hastily informed.

"Really?" Jake asked incredulously. "Allison Piper fancies Castor! Our Castor! Castor Black?"

"The very same," Callie confirmed.

"Why would she tell you?"

"She thought Castor might have told me that he liked her or something. I said that I didn't know, and that I'd ask you."

Jake shrugged. "If he fancied her, then he hasn't told me. I don't think it's a good idea, those two going out, is it?"

"Why not?"

He glanced around. "She's a _Muggle_."

"So? He went out with Isabelle Dean-Smith last year and you never cared." Then it dawned on her. "Oh, _you_ like Allison!"

"No!" Jake exclaimed. "No, she's a horrible person – another reason why they shouldn't go out."

"That was my reason too. What do we say to Allison, then?"

"Tell her he hasn't told me."

"She'll keep nagging us to ask him! If we say he doesn't fancy her she's going to get upset and angry and probably start making our lives hell! No, you have to ask him."

"_Me_? Why me?"

"You're his best friend! Come on Jake, do it, please? For me?"

Reluctantly, he accepted and went off to Castor. Later, Callie heard him laughing at something and looking over at Allison, who was oblivious to this. There was a very high chance that they were laughing about Allison's feelings, and she felt slightly embarrassed for the blonde.

Ten minutes later, however, that feeling changed.

"Callie LUPIN!" Allison's shrill voice screamed, echoing from the other side of the hall. Callie looked up from her script and saw the blonde striding over to her, looking exceedingly irate. Callie scrambled up so she was the same height as the blonde. "You told Castor!"

"Wha- No! No I didn't! I only told Jake-"

"Then how does he know?"

She did not want to get Jake in trouble, and he was looking over at Callie very culpably. Castor, on the other hand, was enjoying the performance, laughing at it from the corner of the room. Callie instantly knew who to blame.

"I trusted you!" The blonde confessed in an undertone. "I thought we were friends."

"Friends?" Callie repeated. "You didn't even know my _name_ until this play. Don't even deny it either; you've never said one word to me in my entire life."

"We're not friends," Allison agreed. "So why should I have bothered? You never did?"

"Why should _I_? You've ignored me ever since you came to this school. You made friends with every other girl in this room apart from me. Why am I different?"

Allison struggled for an answer to her question. "You – you don't know me. You don't know what I'm going through." Callie's mind raced with problems of her own that were probably ten times worse than Allison's: Mother dead, Father a werewolf and all the consequences of that. Whatever Allison's problem was nothing compare to Callie's. "I've got mental health problems."

"What?"

"I have mental health issues, I have anger problems."

Callie's prediction was right; Allison's issue was nothing – actually, nothing. "That's nothing. My Mum is dead, Allison, and you're complaining that you get angry from time to time. With everything that's happened to me, I'm probably more likely to have anger issues than you."

Allison blinked, and she seemed like she was on the verge of tears. "That – that's a horrible thing to say!"

"Just go away Allison; you're embarrassing yourself."

Callie turned to walk away, but Allison grabbed her arm, pinching it tightly, causing the brunette to wince and stay where she was. "And you're embarrassing yourself. You don't know what people say about you behind your back: they say you're a filthy tramp with a smelly house."

"Is that it?"

"They never said it before because they were afraid of Harry Potter and Sybil Rosier... Now they're not here to have your back, and we can say whatever we want about you to your face."

"That's cowardice," Callie claimed. "You're nothing but cowards – all of you."

Allison gave her a smile, and she no longer looked upset like she had done seconds before. She looked angry, she looked sinister, and she looked _frightening. _"Maybe you're right – you _are_ right, actually, but there are plenty of things I can say about you Callie. Things I can say that will cry you to sleep at night."

"Do tell me; I could do with something amusing; your acting skills are beginning to bore me," Callie said coolly.

The brunette's eyes turned to slits. "Well... Your face is spottier than a cheetah's fur."

"And yours would look better with a paper bag over it, continue."

"I'm surprised you can afford the clothes you stand in, seeing as you live in a bin."

"I only live where you were found. Face it Allison: anything you can say I can take it and deliver five times better."

Allison searched Callie's face for something else to criticise, and when Allison's face broke out into a very triumphant, ominous grin, Callie noticed that the insult she was about to deliver, Allison thought it to be a very hurtful one, and it turned out, it was: "Try and take this one then: at least my Mother didn't abandon me at birth." It wasn't exactly accurate – in fact, it wasn't accurate at all, just hurtful. Callie couldn't think of a retort to this, so only corrected her. "Yeah she did; she died because she didn't want you as her Daughter."

"Shut up," Callie snarled. "Shut up you little bitch."

Allison gasped at Callie's profanity. At nine-years-old, swearing was deeply frowned upon, and Allison took it like a blow to the face. "I'm going to tell on you."

"Go ahead, I'll tell Ms. Menzies what you said to me, though."

"She doesn't like you," Allison informed. "No one likes you."

"Castor does – shame he doesn't like you, though. He called you ugly, just back there, and stupid, and fat. He also said that nails scratching a chalkboard make better sounds than you."

That was completely untrue – a low blow, even for Callie, but she was recovering from Allison's previous statement. "At least I have a Mother to love me. You have no one who cares about you! I'd rather die than have your life. Go ahead and die, Callie; you'll be with your Mother then." Allison's insult didn't hurt Callie as much as it angered her. She felt her stomach drop in her body, her head pounding, her throat drying and her voice quavering. Her eyes stung with tears, and she tried her best to push them back. Allison noticed this, and gave a quiet laugh. "Go on, go on and cry you pathetic little girl. Imagine what your Mother must be thinking of you right now? She'd be _so_ ashamed."

She wanted to hurt the blonde. She wanted to tear at her face an scream at her that she was wrong, but she couldn't do that; she'd get into too much trouble. Instead, Callie tried to move past the other, but she blocked Callie's way. "Where do you think you're going? I'm not done with you!"

Allison shoved into Callie a few times before Callie retaliated. She barged into Allison with her palms outright, and before she made contact with the body, Allison flew across the hall, smashing into the wall on the other side and on the hall in a heap.

What had she done? She had just used magic to harm someone. The whole hall had gone quiet and everyone stared at her. Then the whispering began. What had she done? How had she been capable of launching another girl across a fifty foot room? It was _impossible_. Callie stared down at her own hands, fascinated and ashamed at the same time, by what she had done. Instinctively, she rushed to the unconscious Allison, but before she could take five steps to the girl, Castor and Jake cordoned her.

"Come on; we need to get out of here."

Castor roughly grabbed Callie by the arm, and the rest of the class and Ms. Menzies – too enthralled at Allison – did not notice them leave the hall. They journeyed to their classroom and once in, Jake slammed the door behind them and pushed two tables up against the door to barricade them in. Callie was crying and she was shaking like a baby kitten. It was positively terrifying for her, that her first piece of magic would be harmful.

"Callie, what happened?" Jake inquired.

She was too busy stressing over the current situation to respond, so Castor filled him in. "She and Allison were arguing, Callie pushed her and then-"

"I never touched her!" Callie sobbed, burying her face in her hands. "I-I-I killed her! I've killed her, haven't I?"

Jake instantly rushed to her aid. Awkwardly, he put his arm around her but Callie didn't respond. Just as awkwardly as Jake's act, Castor perched himself on their pathetic little barricade that the strength of a teacher could easily penetrate. "You couldn't have _killed_ her! Accidental magic like that can't kill someone."

"I'm going to A-A-Azkaban! Th-They're going to give me the Dementors Kiss and-and -_I'm going to die_!"

"They won't throw you in Azkaban for this," Castor reassured. "Dad deals with stuff like this all the time. They'll put Allison back into shape and wipe a few memories – nothing a few strong charms and Aurors can't control."

It reassured Callie only the tiniest bit, but she was still in hysterics. "Where are the Aurors then? They're not here wh-what if Ms. Menzies or another teacher comes and gets me? What if I expose magic?"

"You _won't_," Jake soothed. "The worse they'll do is let you off with a warning. Nothing serious, don't worry."

'Don't worry' was some pretty pathetic advice, but it was all Jake could come up with. Moments later, Callie's worse nightmare occurred and the door handle started shaking. With nowhere else to run, Callie pulled a chair across in attempt to strengthen the barricade.

When she advanced away, the door burst open revealing a familiar face. It was Sirius, and Callie had never been more relieved to see him.

"I got an alert and came down straight away. Callie, what's happened?"

She flung herself at Sirius, throwing her arms around her Godfather's torso. "Please don't send me to Azkaban!"

"Azkaban?" Sirius repeated. "We're not going to send you to Azkaban over something like this... What happened?"

He looked at Jake and Castor for help. "Uhh..." Castor began. "She had a bit of an argument with another girl."

"Who?"

"Allison Piper."

"That name means nothing to me. What happened – what did you do to her?"

"It was an accident!" Callie promised. "I – I didn't even touch her! I went to push her away and – and – I blasted her against the wall! Now she's not breathing and I've killed her. Please don't let them send me to Azkaban Uncle Sirius; I'll never, ever do something like this again. I'm sorry. I'm so, _so_ sorry."

"You won't go to Azkaban, Callie. I've got my cousin Nymphadora Tonks from the Auror Office down performing some memory charms as we speak so no one will recollect a thing."

Callie sniffed and stepped back. "Really?"

"Of course," he smiled. "But for the report, I'm going to have to ask you: what happened?"

Callie took a deep breath and Sirius instructed her to go and sit down. Sirius dismissed Castor and Jake and reluctantly, they left the room and closed the door shut. Instinctively, they pressed their ears up against the door but Castor's Father was smart enough to put a spell on it. The two boys had no other option, then, to go downstairs and watch the action take place in the hall.

"I'm going to slap Allison Piper if she said anything really horrible to Callie," Jake threatened. "Callie wouldn't have done anything like that if it was just name-calling. It must have been something really terrible for her to react like the way she did."

Castor pondered on it for a moment. "You don't think Allison said anything about her Mum, do you?"

"That's what I think," Jake agreed. "Or something about Uncle Remus."

"And to think she ever had a chance with me. _Me_! Now she's got no chance; no one says anything nasty to our Cal but me. Anyone else and they're dead."

"It's nice that you're being nice to Callie for once," Jake remarked.

"I'm always nice to Cal," Castor differed. "Why? Has she said something else?"

"This isn't the time," Jake grumbled as they descended down the stairs to the hall.

It was as if nothing had happened. Ms. Menzies was sat at the piano, composing music, no doubt, and Allison was flouncing round the hall with her pretty dresses, singing her lines repeatedly. Castor stepped out to go over, but Jake pulled him back by his shirt.

"We can't say anything," Jake hissed.

"What? Why?"

"They've all had their memories deleted! We can't go up to Allison and shout at her for being horrible to Callie when, according to her, that never happened! Come on, use your brain, Cas!"

"I wasn't going to shout at her. I was going to punch her."

Jake – though it was his idea originally – scowled at his best friend. "I hope she's alright."

"Cal will be fine," Castor told him. "Dad's with her; Dad will make her okay."

Jake hoped that she would be fine. Jake hoped that the whole argument with Allison hadn't upset her too much. It was a horrible thing Callie had to go through: losing her Mother so young and losing her Father, mentally, for one week a month. Jake couldn't bear to imagine what she must be going through every day and then have to deal with school and other girls's and work on top of it. He was fortunate, and he only fully realised that, that day.

* * *

At Hogwarts, in the morning, it was no different than any other Halloween had been; the glass ceiling in the Great Hall had been enchanted to look like a stormy sky, with spooky shaped clouds and random bolts of lightning. Bats flew around the Hall, diving in between students, scaring students. Floating pumpkins hovered above heads and the Ghosts were socialising some more.

The first interesting thing to happen was at the Gryffindor table, to Harry, more precisely, when he received a large package, carried by six, small owls. When it first arrived, a couple of the Slytherin's had just entered the Great Hall.

"What's going on?" Daphne piped up beside Sybil. "Why are people crowded round?"

"Is there a fight?" Goyle grunted.

"No," said Draco, peering over heads. "It's Potter. He's still at school? Didn't my tip off to Filch work? I'm going to see what's going on."

Draco, Crabbe and Goyle went over there and the girl's – lucky to get away, coupled at the Slytherin table. No less than five minutes later, a moody Draco, Crabbe and Goyle joined the girl's.

"Potter's got himself a broomstick!" Draco complained. "Not just any old broomstick – oh no: a _Nimbus 2000_! And there beside him was Weasley, acting all high and mighty because his chum got a new broomstick. It's not even a _good_ broom! Father says it's a much slower flyer than my Comet 260 and can't turn corners as swiftly as mine."

"He earned it; we all saw him catch Neville's Remembrall, it was incredible!"

"Shut up Greengrass," Draco sneered.

"Don't talk to her like that," Sybil interjected. "Come on Daphne, we'll go and sit somewhere else."

"Wait-" Draco's cry was ignored and the two girls' moved down the table. He slammed his fork on the table and gave each girl a filthy look. "It's their loss – I don't even know why they bother with Potter! Next they're going to be cheering for Gryffindor at Quidditch. Am I right?" When Draco didn't get a response from Crabbe or Goyle, he reiterated. "Am I right?"

"Yes," came their grumbles.

"What's wrong with Sybil lately?" Draco complained. "She seems upset with us. Me, actually. Is it something I've done wrong?"

"Dunno," mumbled Goyle. "P'haps she misses 'ome."

"I don't think that's it; she never talks about home much. Do you reckon it's something _I've_ done, or something Potter's said to her?"

"Po'er probably," Crabbe concluded. "Pass me the ketchup, would ya?"

Draco complied and glared at the Boy-Who-Lived as he marvelled at his unopened package. "If Potter had just died eleven-years ago to this day, everyone's lives would be better. Sybil wouldn't hate me and I'd be the most admired kid in school."

"Why do ya care so much about Rosier?" Crabbe asked. "She's fit and all, but she ain't got much else going for 'er. You like her or summit?"

Draco started to laugh. "I couldn't like her, Crabbe, don't be ridiculous."

"Why not?"

"Her Father is, after all, my-" Draco caught himself mid-sentence and decided against continuing it. "It doesn't matter, I shouldn't tell you."

"Tell us," Goyle insisted. "It could be good; we could blackmail 'er."

"I couldn't do that; my Father would be furious."

"Why would he care? Are you and Rosier related?"

Draco smirked. "You could say that. I can't tell you anymore though; you know too much already. You can't tell Rosier or anyone about this, do you understand?" Draco decided not to add: 'you'll probably forget, anyway' to the end of the list.

* * *

(Halloween Afternoon)

Blaise and Sybil were sat in the Library once school was over together, writing their Astronomy essay – a lesson that Blaise was very good at, and a subject that Sybil, however, was not. She was copying from his essay, and while they did that, he copied her Transfiguration essay - one the only lessons Sybil was any good in. They were quite happy to be alone with their books together, in the corner of the library, but sadly, all good things had to come to an end.

"Sybil... I need to talk to you."

Surprisingly, it was Harry. She took one look at Harry and disregarded him. "What do you want?"

"I need to speak to you," with a glance at Blaise. "Alone."

She got out of her chair and followed Harry down one of the shelves. She wondered what in Merlin's name was so urgent that she had to be lead into a secluded part of the library near the books no one would ever read. Seriously, who'd want to learn about the properties of tree fungi?

"I take it you didn't want to drag me down here to ask my opinion on which book you should read: The Seventy-Eight Stems of Water Plants or All Things Bright and Fungiful. So what do you want?"

"I need to ask you something," Harry began. "You haven't been told anything extra about the third floor corridor, have you?"

"Other than it's off limits, no." He looked disappointed. "Why do you want to ask me, anyway? You've been ignoring me the past month, so what's changed? Realised your life is boring without me and you're begging to have me back? Sorry to disappoint, but I've got a _much_ better group of friends than you, Weasley and Longbottom, thank you very much."

She was prepared to leave, but Harry caught her. "Please, you don't know anything?"

"No!" She exclaimed. "Now let go of me. I have to get back to Blaise."

"And you say Blaise Zabini is a better friend than me. How are his four step-fathers? Oh right, because they're all dead and buried."

"Something we have in common."

Harry froze. "Sorry, I-"

"It doesn't matter," she shook her head.

"I shouldn't have said that. I didn't mean to sound rude."

"It's fine, is there anything else I can help you with? Stuck on school work? Quidditch training?"

Harry smiled at her. "I just had my first training session."

"How did it go?"

"Do you care?"

"Yes," she replied truthfully. "I'm pleased for you Harry, I really am. It's really annoying Draco, though."

"It would annoy _Draco_, wouldn't it?" She scowled at him. "Who cares? Have you forgotten what he did to Neville?"

"It was just the other day, of course I haven't forgotten. It was a mean thing for him to do, and he shouldn't have set you up like he did last night. I would have gone to warn you, but I didn't know until late."

Harry scoffed. "You were his second, of course you knew about it."

"I didn't," she lied. In actual fact, she had known almost ten minutes after the fight was scheduled. She didn't tell Harry because she was angry with him. Why she was angry with him she did not know – if it was for leaving her at Hogwarts she was as much to blame as him. Perhaps she was just angry in general? "I don't want to argue with you. I'm going to go back to Blaise. Will you give your Mum, Dad and Jake love from me? Thanks."

She turned on her heel to leave. A sentence caught in Harry's breath but he couldn't bring himself to say it. Instead he turned in the opposite direction Sybil went, and Sybil joined Blaise back at the table.

"What did Potter want?" Blaise asked.

"I don't know," Sybil lied. "He never said."

"Hmm... Well you should know you spelt Mars wrong. It's only one 'r', not two."

"Oh, thanks."

* * *

Callie didn't return to the hall after she had spoken to Sirius, and Nymphadora informed the two boys and Ms. Menzies that Callie had to leave for 'private businesses. Both boys were anxious to see her and find out what was going on, but someone more anxious to see her was her Father, who left work as soon as he discovered what had happened.

She was already at home with Sirius when Remus arrived. He looked panicked, but not nearly as much as Callie did less than twenty minutes ago. She had since calmed down, and had a glass of milk on the table in front of her. She was no longer crying and no longer scared. That was a good thing.

"Sirius I just got your floo. What happened?"

Padfoot glanced at the ten-year-old sipping milk out of a cold glass. "I think you should talk to Callie. I need to get back to work – are you going to be alright now, Callie?"

She nodded. "Thanks Uncle Sirius."

"No problem," he dismissed. Upon exit, he clapped Remus on the shoulder. "You've got a real talented kid right there Moony; number seven on the Underage Alert Scale." The Underage Alert Scale sounded exactly what it was: an alert for Underage magic, measured on a scale from one to ten. Jake had only been a four, when he used magic in September. Remus himself had only been a five. Sirius had been an eight, and James a seven. He was shocked that Callie would be so high. "The highest we've had in two years. We had a seven a couple of weeks ago from some Pure Blood kid from the Tolliver family eight weeks ago – ended up smashing windows down some Muggle street in London. Anyway, don't be mad with her, it's not her fault she was provoked."

"Provoked?" Remus echoed. "By who? How?"

Sirius bowed his head. "You're better off asking Callie that. I'll see you later, Callie."

"Bye," she called from the kitchen.

When Callie was born, Remus always knew she was special, and this only confirmed it. He settled himself at the table beside Callie and began his questions. "So come on then, Uncle Sirius wouldn't have called me out of work if it wasn't urgent. What did you do?"

"What do you know I did?" The other questioned.

"Only that you used some pretty powerful magic around break time. So what happened – what did you do?"

"I pushed Allison Piper and she was thrown against the wall," Remus showed a look of incredulity and shock on his face. "I didn't even touch her! She just flew."

"Just flew? Callie, that sounds rather unbelievable. Did you touch her?"

"I didn't touch her! I had at least three people who works with Uncle Sirius ask me that! You can even ask Jake or Cas! I did not touch Allison Piper! I was going to push her, hard, but about three inches away from her body I stopped and she just flew about twenty feet in the air and smashed against a brick wall. At least, that's what it says in the analysis."

When Remus thought Callie was special, he didn't expect to be dealing with something like this. "What made you push her?"

"We were arguing – nothing much. She fancies Castor, so I told Jake to find out if Castor fancies her as well, who then told Castor who told Allison he apparently didn't like her. Allison was embarrassed and took her anger out at me. That's all!" Remus was unsure whether or not to believe Callie. There was a sense in the back of his mind that his Daughter was not telling him everything. So he asked her if that was the case, and Callie responded: "Alright, I called her some names."

"And what did she say?"

"I don't remember."

"Callie, don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying! I don't remember!"

"Callie Lydia Lupin they performed the memory charm on the Muggles, not _you_. Now tell me what she said to you or you're going to be in big trouble when I find out from your Uncle Sirius." When Callie gave no immediate response, Remus continued. "Come on Callie, what did she say?"

The young brunette exhaled and said: "She just said something about Mum."

"What about your Mum?"

Callie was hesitant to respond, but like her Father predicted, Remus would later find out from Sirius. "She just said Mum abandoned me at birth, I called her some names and I pushed her to get out of my way. That's all Dad, I promise."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning on the table with his elbow. He looked up at Callie, who was twirling her milk around in her glass. "Could this happen again? Could she provoke you to do something like this?"

"What would happen if she could?"

"Well, we can't have Uncle Sirius' department come down to the school every time you have a bitter row with another girl. I suppose if something like this could happen again, we should take you out of school – which I know that you want to happen, seeing as you hate school." Despite everything, Callie found herself trying to stifle a smile. Remus detected this. "Don't smile. This isn't a reward for blasting a girl through a wall – I'm very disappointed that you thought violence would solve this. Never the less, you were very shaken up after the event, so I think that's punishment enough."

"Of course," Callie smiled sweetly. "So I really don't have to return to school?"

"Yes you do," Remus began. "Up until Christmas, at least; we can't let Ms. Menzies lose her star performer now, can we?" Smiling across from the table, Callie thanked her Father. "It's alright – what do you want to do for the rest of the day, then? I told work that I wouldn't be in, so where do you want to go – what do you want to do?"

For a long time now, Callie had wanted a pet. They had the family owl, but Remus used it most of the time for work. Callie hoped to get her own pet for when she went to Hogwarts – a cat, perhaps. She hadn't expressed this to her Father yet, and today, she thought, was as good a day as ever to ask. "Can we go to Diagon Alley, please?"

"What do you want to get from Diagon Alley?" Remus asked.

"A cat."

"A _cat_?" Remus echoed.

"Yes, a cat. I'm going to Hogwarts next year, and I thought I might want my own pet. In the window of Magical Menagerie, yesterday, I saw the _cutest_ cat ever and I was wondering... Would you get it for me, please – for Hogwarts? An early Hogwarts present?"

Remus, however, had been planning on buying Callie a cat for Christmas. He had enough money for one kitten – a plain, kitten, which had been bred in the back of the shop or been brought by the shop to sell cheap. "You want a cat, then?"

Callie nodded. "Yes please."

Remus rarely had the money to spoil Callie with. Watching James and Lily, Sirius and Helena buying their children spontaneous gifts had been something Remus wanted to do for Callie. This was as good an opportunity as ever. "Grab your coat," Remus commanded.

"Why?" She asked.

"We're going to Diagon Alley to get you your cat."

* * *

(Halloween Evening)

At the feast at Hogwarts, it was a sheer transformation to see the entire school eating together at the same time. As Dinner was served from six o'clock to eight o'clock, between those two hours people came and went. So it really was bizarre to see all five hundred or so students congregating in the hall for Dinner that night.

All the tables were packed when it was a few minutes to six o'clock and it turned out to be struggle to find seats together. The Prefect's, Head Boy and Head Girl, Hagrid and most of the teachers had added more decorations to the Great Hall to make it look even spookier.

When six o'clock came the Hall was filled with students and Professor's all sitting at their respected tables, anxiously awaiting their Halloween themed feast.

"The hall looks fantastic," Daphne commented, craning her neck to have a better look at the bats flying over head.

"I hate bats," Draco complained. "All this is a waste of money."

"Oh shut up, where's your Halloween spirit? Pass me the potatoes."

"Pass me the potatoes, what?"

"Pass me the potatoes, _please_?" Sybil corrected and Draco did so. "Thank you. Did you see Granger today? I hadn't seen her since Charms. Apparently, Harry and Weasley said something to upset her."

"Apparently she's been crying in the toilets all day," Pansy gossiped, helping herself to some yellow rice. "Mind you, if I had a face like hers and no friends, I think I'd spend most of my time _living_ in some toilets."

"Who cares?" Crabbe snorted. "She's a Mudblood." Pansy laughed. Daphne pretended to ignore them and Sybil looked surprisingly shocked. "Wha'? Didn' you know?"

"Of course I knew," Sybil replied.

"She just doesn't like the term Mudblood, do you, Sybil?" Sybil didn't reply. "You're going to have to get over it. Plenty of people use it here and you'll start using it too."

"No I will not," Sybil snarled back at Draco from across the table. "That's a horrible thing to call someone! Just call them Muggleborns?"

"No," began Draco. "Mudbloods deserve to be called Mudbloods. Don't even think otherwise. Now will you pass the salt?"

Sybil did so, and barely ten seconds after she passed him condiment, their boring Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Quirell, came bursting through the wide, oak doors, turban lop-sided, screaming at the top of his lungs: "TROLL! IN THE DUNGEONS!" He stopped right opposite the teacher's table. "Thought you ought to know." Promptly, he fainted.

There was uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to bring silence. "Prefects," he rumbled, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

"What about us?" Daphne fretted. "We're _in_ the Dungeons!"

"Well done Dumbledore you old coot," Draco spat. "He's putting us in danger! What's a troll doing in Hogwarts? This is outrageous – my Father _will_ hear about this."

He said that an awful lot. The three girls's hastily tied on their robes and cautiously followed the rest of their house through the Dungeons. There was no sighting of the troll all the way to the Common Room, and no one was sorry about that.

Once in the Common Room, there was a mad rush for sofas and the five first-years were able to get a small table by the window, but it resulted in Crabbe and Daphne standing up. They were joined by Blaise Zabini and his quieter and less handsome friend Theodore Nott.

"What's happened?" Theodore asked Sybil.

She looked at him incredulously. "You know what's happened – there's a troll! Professor Quirell came barging into the Great Hall and-"

"-Blaise and I missed it," Theodore told her. He sat on the window sill beside her chair, he light from outside highlighting his handsome features. Though he was not as handsome as Blaise, his best friend, he was not at all hideous like Crabbe and Goyle. A few inches taller than Sybil, Theodore was, with brown hair and eyes just a shade lighter. His cheeks were flushed, but that was just from the rushing. "We were in one of the classrooms and we heard the noise."

"What were you doing?" Sybil asked. In return, Theodore bowed his head guiltily, and Sybil decided not to press on. "Never mind – did you see the troll?"

"I don't think I'd be as nonchalant as I am if I saw a nine foot troll," he remarked sardonically. Sybil gave him a look of inquisition. "Nonchalant means casual – laid back. _Circe _were you not educated?"

"Yes, at a Primary School near my home in London."

"By Muggles? Muggles don't teach you _anything_. Didn't your parents get you a Tutor who taught you things worthwhile? Stuff like Latin and three syllable words like _nonchalant_."

"Don't be sarcastic with me," she warned. "See, three syllable word right there. You don't have to be filthy rich like you to know long words."

"I knew there was a reason I never bothered to be friends with you, despite Blaise being so. You're a pretentious little girl, aren't you?"

"Little girl? Nott, I'm probably older than you."

"I doubt it – when's your birthday?"

"November."

"When?"

"Every year."

He gave her a look of displeasure. "Don't try being funny with me."

"I don't try, and it's November 23rd for your information."

He barked with laughter. "November 22nd."

"You're lying."

He shook his head. "Honest to Circe."

"Why do you use 'Circe' all the time? I thought the term was Merlin."

"Merlin's too... _conventional _for me. Like you – oh, and in case you weren't aware, Rosier, conventional means 'boring' and 'unoriginal'. I just thought you ought to know so that you could comprehend I was insulting you."

"Oh, I comprehended you _fine_," she snapped. "So try and comprehend this, Nott: you're a dick."

She stood up, turned on her heel and just got to the end of the raised platform when she was called back by Theodore. "Thanks for the seat, Rosier! Have a fastidious night."

She turned back to him. "Go _fuck yourself_, Nott."

"Try not and bump into a troll on your way to bed – but you never know, it might knock some sense into you."

* * *

It took a long time for Callie to eventually decide which cat she wanted, and she decided on a small, female tabby cat with bright and alert tabby eyes. She was a reasonably cheap cat, too, and before knowing the price Callie had fallen in love with it. Remus couldn't reject his daughter after she lovingly held the cat in her arms as if it was a child.

Remus, Callie and the tabby cat returned home with a brand new bed and large bag of cat food. As soon as they arrived home, she was eager to start playing with the cat, and Remus couldn't exactly not let her.

She lay on her stomach by the fire, a piece of string and the cat, making the cat chase after it. The baby was no older than six weeks old and as lively and mischievous as two other cats combined.

"Your Mum had a cat like that in Hogwarts," when Callie heard this, she turned her attention to her Dad, who was standing at the doorway, smiling down at her. "When I was in sixth-year I found it, and your Mum had put up posters everywhere looking for it. I found it in the kitchens when I went down there with your Uncle James. Uncle Sirius kept it in our dormitory until your Mum set a reward. Eventually, the three of us returned it to her, and she hugged Uncle Sirius and I and kissed your Uncle James. I'd never seen him go so red – especially because your Aunt Lily was nearby."

Callie laughed. "I like it when you talk about Mum."

"As the days go on you remind me more of her," he confessed. "Come on then – what are you going to name her?"

"I don't know yet," she said, "what did Mum name hers?"

Remus chuckled and crouched down beside his daughter. "I don't think I remember."

"Try," she asked. "Please."

He thought back to it. "We found a collar round her neck, but we never called it by the name on the collar; we always called it Snape."

"Snape? Why Snape?"

"Because your Mum's cat hated us like Snape. I think she was called Nessa, though."

"Nessa?" Callie repeated.

"Don't ask why, but your Mum had a thing for Irish names."

"Nessa," she reiterated. "I like that. Can I call this cat Nessa?"

"If you like," Remus supposed and then stood up to regain his full height. "I'm going to run you a bath and you're going to bed; it's been a pretty dramatic day for you today."

"It has," she agreed. "Thanks Dad."

"For what?"

"Everything."

He smiled down at her and left the room. He went up the stairs, walked past her closed bedroom, into the bathroom and turned on the taps for her.

As he watched the water running from the faucets, he recalled bathing Callie for the first time in one. He had no idea what to do so Lily had to assist him, and brought along Sybil – who she was baby-sitting and the young girl had wanted to come along to the Callie Bathing Ceremony - and Harry, who too, wanted to join. It had ended up with the three of them in the bath and Remus' floor soaking wet.

Every day that passed, Callie reminded Remus more of Lydia. She was precious to him, _so_ precious, and the thought of losing her was unbearable. That was why Remus had to keep her safe – she thought he was being unfair, but it was because he loved her. He always had and he always would.

His dearest, darling Daughter, who could not know the dangers of the world, what he had seen and what he had done. For if she did, she could be no longer innocent, and Remus couldn't bare it.


	18. Forboding

The day of Harry's first Quidditch game was also the day of Sybil's birthday.

She was the last to wake up of the girls' and three of them had already gone down to breakfast. Daphne had stayed, and rearranged a pile of presents by the foot of her best friend's bed. When Sybil first awoke at half past eight, she had forgotten it was her birthday out of weariness, but as soon as she caught sight of the presents by her bed, she remembered what day it was in an instant.

She received clothes from Lily and a trinket of some sort from James. Remus brought her some chocolates and from her parents, sat on the large pile of presents, was the owl she had requested from the Magical Menagerie.

She and Daphne sat on Sybil's bed, eating the chocolates and stroking the owl. It was friendly, quite large and possessed orange eyes which were highlighted by its light brown fur. Sybil had liked it as a young owl, but now she loved it as an adult.

Within two weeks of being at Hogwarts, her original pet had got lost. Nancy, Sybil supposed, had wandered into the Forbidden Forest and never been able to find her way out. Draco had suggested it had been trampled on and crushed to death by Centaurs, and he wasn't joking when he said it.

"Are you going to watch the Quidditch game today?" Daphne asked when their chocolates were half gone.

"Of course," she replied.

"To support Slytherin or Harry?" She posed.

"Can't I do both?" Sybil asked, popping a chocolate in her mouth.

"What are you wearing?"

Sybil shrugged. "I haven't got anything green; green's not my colour. I'll just wear my scarf."

"Don't wear red," Daphne warned. "Or people will get the wrong idea."

"Have you got anything green I can borrow?"

"I have a green sweater – but you can't really wear the cute high-wasted jeans you got for your birthday in them. I have an idea, let _me_ wear the jeans and you wear the dungarees; they'll look _so_ much better than jeans."

"Can I trust you with my clothes?"

"Of course; I'm trusting you with my favourite sweater – don't stretch it."

"Are you calling me fat? If you don't want it stretched don't let Millicent or Tracy wear them."

Daphne looked like she was going to scold Sybil for making fun of their friends, but just shook her head. "I'll go get them."

The two girls' changed, both wearing green shirts for house pride and scarves and a coat as they guessed the weather outside would be dreadful. They were right; when they entered the Great Hall the ceiling had frost on it and they could hear the rain. Sybil felt sorry for the Quidditch player's having to play in these conditions, but it was their fault, really, for doing it.

"I'm going to see Harry," Sybil informed when they were a few metres up from him. "Save me a seat?"

Daphne sat with Blaise and Draco at the Slytherin table. Draco was reading a letter in his hands and was completely preoccupied by it he didn't even acknowledged Daphne's presence.

"You're going to the game today?" Blaise asked.

"Of course," said Daphne, "I _am_ wearing green, after all."

"You wore that shirt last week," Draco remarked, barely looking up from his letter. "I wouldn't call it patriotism."

"You're not wearing anything green," Blaise pointed out. From beside him, Draco lifted up his Slytherin scarf which had been beside him on the bench. "I'd hardly call it patriotism," he mocked.

"The Hufflepuff players look more excited than you," Daphne joked.

"I don't have anything green; green's not my colour – something to do with Malfoy's I suppose..." Draco duly noted. He folded up his letter and placed it inside the pocket of his robes that also lay beside him. "Where's Sybil?"

"Speaking to Harry – pass the jam please, Blaise?"

"Why's she doing that?"

"Because Potter's her friend?" Blaise suggested. "_And_ it's her birthday?"

Draco looked up hastily. "It _is_?"

"Didn't you know? Merlin, Draco, she told you _yesterday_," Daphne laughed.

"She better not be expecting a present then," he declared.

"I think she was."

"What did _you_ get her, Zabini?" Draco asked coolly. "Did you get her a ring, seeing as you remembered her birthday?"

"Why would I do that? She said my present to her can be allowing her to copy my homework and essays until the month is over. She does it anyway."

"What did you get her?" Draco asked Daphne.

"I got her some earrings – she's wearing them right now."

"Good Morning guys," said Sybil as she emerged, taking the seat opposite from Draco. "Morning Draco, Blaise." She poured herself some cereal and looked up at Draco. "You really show your house patriotism, don't you Draco?"

"Just because it's your birthday, Sybil, doesn't mean I won't curse you."

"Go ahead," she offered, pouring the milk on top of the muesli. "But it won't make you anymore of a Slytherin if you do."

* * *

For the third time this week, her department had been getting alerts from Durmstrang and, all week, only one person had suggested they actually go to Durmstrang and see what has been going on, and that was an eighteen-year-old intern fresh out of Hogwarts. Needless to say, when Helena Rosier arrived there, she should have paid heed to the spotty boy.

Durmstrang was located somewhere in Europe – whereabouts in Europe Helena never bothered to learn. Durmstrang didn't have as strict regulations as Hogwarts, so when Helena apparated to the school she landed in the middle of their Great Hall just a few hours before lunch. There was no body in there, and Helena could see it was very much different than Hogwarts' Great Hall.

At Hogwarts, there were five tables meanwhile at Durmstrang; there was a scatter of lunch tables in their multitude. There must have been fifty, perhaps, with six seats around all of them. The teachers still had their table at the top, Helena was pleased to see, but the lack of organisation down below was troublesome.

She walked through the tables and entered the Entrance Hall. There was no glass cabinet where the house points were counted, and it made Helena wonder if there were houses at all. How could a school not have houses? She wondered, and how could they function without them? Another thing she wondered was how in Merlin's name she was going to locate the Headmaster's Office – if they even had a Headmaster, that is.

She'd been given no details on how to get anywhere in the school, only that she had to get there. So she was relieved when a well-dressed, mature man with slightly greying hair, muscular build ventured over to her.

"Are you the representative of the Hogwarts Governing Body?" The man asked. "I was expecting Lucius Malfoy."

"Sorry to disappoint, but Malfoy – _Lucius_ asked me to do it. He's busy with Albus at the minute. I'm sure I can assist you Mr. – sorry, I don't know your name."

"Another reason why it should have been Lucius to come and greet me; he knows who I am."

"Sorry to disappoint," Helena muttered. "Can I ask what your name is?"

"Igor Karkaroff – Headmaster of Durmstrang."

"I remember you; I was at your trial when you were pleading for your life and you sold out my brother. It must have been a pretty good day for you," she said coolly.

Igor Karkaroff glanced behind him and over Helena's shoulder. "Walk with me." She obeyed, and the two of them walked through the Entrance Hall of Durmstrang. He was difficult to keep up with, so Helena had to increase her pace. "So you're Evan Rosier's sister? He was a good dueller I have to admit. Not so much of a good person, but I remember when he battled with Fabian Prewett and killed him – a proud moment for us all."

Truthfully, Helena did not feel the same way about her brother murdering Fabian Prewett. "I didn't know _Evan_ killed Fabian – I just thought he was there."

"Well, he didn't really have much time to brag; he was killed the following day by that bastard Mad-Eye Moody."

"Alastor is a great Wizard," Helena countered.

"So you don't care that he killed your brother?"

"Of course I care – but it's his job. In everyone's job you have to do things you don't want to do, like this. I don't want to be in _Bulgaria_ talking to the Headmaster of Durmstrang who happens to also be an ex-Death Eater."

Igor merely laughed at her and stopped walking. "It takes a lot of guts to talk to a Death Eater like that."

"Yeah, well as Evan was growing up I had to scream at him and his sordid little friends to keep their torturing to a minimum."

"Who was there, I might know them," he requested and continued walking.

"You probably will; Severus Snape was often there. Antonin Dolohov – _Lucius_ Malfoy. You get the idea – no one remotely important."

"Mhm... So I was planning to talk to Lucius about this because he knows all the plans for it. What I have talked through with Madame Maxime from Beauxbatons and Albus Dumbledore from Hogwarts is re-opening the Triwizard Tournament for our three school."

"The Triwizard Tournament?" Helena echoed. "What's that?"

"A competition," Igor began. "Between three schools: Durmstrang, Beauxbatons and Hogwarts, where we each put forward three competitors from our three schools – over the age of seventeen, of course – to take part in thrilling quests to become the Triwizard Champion and receive the trophy. Surely you've heard of it?" Helena shook her head. "It was discontinued in seventeen-ninety-two when too many competitors were killed. Now, with all the medical care that the Wizarding World has to offer, it will be increasingly safer."

"I find it hard to believe Albus agreed to this," Helena mused.

"On the contrary, it was his idea."

"That I find even harder to believe."

Igor laughed. "Do you have any children over the age of seventeen, Miss. Rosier?"

"No," she replied. "One of them is twelve and the other nine."

"So you are married, _Mrs_. Rosier?"

"Yes – No. It's complicated, actually. Sirius – the Father to my children – biological to our son, lawfully to our daughter – hasn't proposed to me yet we live together. Are you married, Igor? Do you have children?"

"No to both accounts – I have never been one to settling down... I don't think there is much more we can discuss – sorry, but I didn't catch your name."

"Oh, it's Helena."

"What a beautiful name for one as beautiful as you," Helena did not blush or pay any regards. "Continued: I don't think there is much more we can discuss if Lucius is not present with our plans. You are more than welcome to join me in my study for a drink if you can be tempted. I have the finest Troll Wine." She cringed. "Do not be put off by its name, and it is much finer than Elf Wine. Can I entice you?" Helena was enticed and she was tempted. She was very close to accepting his enticing offer, but declined it at the last minute. "Can I ask why?"

"I need to get home," she lied. "My son needs picking up from school."

"Of course then – you must go! Go back down to the Great Hall and apparate home. Could I ask something of you please, Miss. Helena Rosier, before you go home?"

"Of course," she smiled.

"Will you write to me?"

"About what – the Triwizard Tournament?"

"No, not the Triwizard Tournament – but I must request that you keep it a secret. Just to write to me, as friends I suppose."

"Friends?" Helena echoed cautiously.

"Friends," Igor confirmed.

She had no intention to see any more of this ghastly man after their encounter today, so politely nodded and agreed to do so if she had the time. That seemed to please him, and he dismissed Helena, giving her instructions on how to return to the Great Hall, and left her on her way. That was, until, she turned the corridor and he came rushing back to her, offering to walk her down himself.

* * *

When Lily arrived home from work, it was only James in the house. This wasn't unusual, as Jacob was normally out with Castor or Callie, but it was quite often the three of them would be sat in the living room causing mischief. Lily enjoyed the silence that her house had to offer.

"I almost didn't recognize this to be my house," Lily laughed upon entering the living room. "Where's Jacob?"

"Round Sirius'."

"Poor Helena having to look after the three of them tonight _especially_ considering that she had to talk to Igor Karkaroff this morning, and apparently, she wasn't too fond with the idea."

"That's not surprising – did you know the Daily Prophet has started to put advertisements for adopting children?" James mused.

Lily took off her beige coat, hanging up over one of the kitchen chairs. "No – that's a little insensitive, isn't it?"

"Agreed – they're right in between the exotic parquets and old brooms for sale. Listen to this: _Serena Price aged four, free to a good home_ – that reminds me of the advertisement for our old owl. No wonder it was free; it died of a heart attack three months after we got it. What was its name again?"

"It was the one we had after Sherlock so we called it Gatsby."

"Poor thing no wonder it got hit by Harry's bludger; probably flew to it to commit suicide. Here's another child advert: A rude troublemaker, aged nine, causing his parent's grief. Guess what his name is?"

"Jacob?" Lily guessed, thinking James had made up the advertisement.

"Elvendork. Elvendork! Lily, someone got to name their son Elvendork! That's the coolest name ever and we had to call our sons boring names like Harry and Jacob. Why couldn't we have renamed Harry Elvendork like we planned?"

"Because I didn't want Harry to get bullied for having a stupid name like Elvendork. I've never met an Elvendork before and to be honest, it is a bit of a ridiculous name."

"Oh, so calling your pets Sherlock and Fagin and Darcy and _freaking_ Gatsby isn't even the slightest bit ridiculous?"

She tutted him and kissed him on the cheek. "It's good to be home. What time is Jacob home so I know what to cook for dinner?"

"Helena's offered to cook for them so it's just you and me."

"Excellent, so while I'm cooking our dinner you can run to Diagon Alley and purchase some of the things on Harry and Jacob's Christmas list; Merlin knows we're not going to get any time alone to go to Diagon Alley once Harry gets home so we might as well go now."

"Christmas isn't for another forty days yet, Darling."

"And I'm sure by the time Christmas comes Jacob's new toy Quidditch set will be out of stock and so will the robes Sybbie wants and the books for Callie. We might as well just go now James; saves us going when it's really busy."

"Fine," he muttered. "I'll see you later. What robes do Sybbie want? The purple ones?"

"No she doesn't like them anymore. She liked the Unicorn silk, dark blue ones with the diamonds on the inside, the velvet collar and matching shoes."

James stared at her incredulously. "You get the robes another day; I don't speak garment language."

"Go with Sirius; he knows the ones you're on about."

James cringed. "I think I'm going to revoke Sirius' Marauder status if he knows which material is which. Thank Merlin I don't have Daughter's."

"Mhm... With the hassle the others go to for theirs I'm lucky we have two sons. Don't get the robes; I'll go and get them another day."

"_Thank you_ – anything else we need to get?"

"We've ran out of pain potion so can you go to the Apothecary and get some more, please?"

As the Husband reached for his wand he let out a loud groan. "Lily... I _hate_ the Apothecary! It smells like rotting dragon brains and raw Goblin blood. Please don't make me go; I _beg_ of you! And the woman behind the counter fancies me – you don't want any competition, do you?"

Lily laughed from the kitchen. "Dorothy? James, she's blind and married to the deaf Romanian Wizard who works in Flourish and Blotts. Can you please just go? I don't have any time in my lunch breaks this week otherwise I would go." James agreed to go. "Take Sirius with you as well if it makes the struggle easier for you. Then he can show you what robes to get."

"Alright then. Do we have enough galleons or do I need to go to Gringotts as well?"

"I think we have enough," Lily replied. "But you might just want to go to be on the safe side. I love you – and please don't start any duels down the street if anyone tries to sell you any dark items again; it was very embarrassing for Helena and me to see our husbands duelling some elderly Bulgarian's because they tried to sneak you a charmed pendant."

James was going to argue that it was his job to stop people, like those down Diagon Alley with the dodgy stalls, from giving people hexed artefacts, but decided against it. Instead, he did as instructed and apparated to Sirius and Helena's home to invite Sirius on a wholesome trip to Diagon Alley to buy the very early Christmas presents.

Sirius' home was larger than the Potter's by quite a great deal. It was off the beaten track and was rather like a mansion if he was honest.

It was nestled between two oak trees and many smaller trees and on the top of the long and wide street. It had seven bedrooms, five bathrooms, a parlour, one large kitchen, four floors, two living rooms, one family room, two studies, one dining room and five acres of land surrounding it. Most of the land was unused, but at the bottom it had a tremendous tree house for the children and play area which was roughly the size of a small park. It was a nightmare to keep the Garden Gnomes away, even though one acre of land was used for holding livestock.

On weekends – to earn some extra money – two boys and one girl from down the road would harvest the land that the Black's had in the bottom of the garden. They would collect the eggs from the nineteen chickens Sirius' family owned. They would milk the two cows (Helena insisted on cows) and feed the rest of the livestock until they were ready to be slaughtered.

James walked towards the Black home and saw the three workers struggling to put the chickens back in the cage. One of them spotted James, and nodded to him.

"Evening Mr. Potter," called the blonde boy.

"Evening – it looks like you're struggling with those. Do you need a hand?"

"We're fine," the brunette girl insisted. "Nothing we – can't – handle! OW! Jimmy that's my finger!"

James laughed and continued down to the house. He was barely five feet away from the door when Sirius rushed out. "Have they got those bloody chickens back? Your Jake just screamed when he opened the door and there was a massive cock sat on the toilet." The other laughed, and the two men walked to the teenagers whom were stood inside the chicken coop off to the side of the garden. It was fenced up, and almost impossible for a chicken to get out of. However, clearly, one of them had. "You three missing a bird?" They seemed hesitant to admit that they were. "Well it's in the house if one of you want to go and get it – how did it get in the house?"

"Your dog frightened it, sir," the girl explained.

The Black's also had three dogs – much to Helena's grief. She disliked dogs, but when a man came round offering a pregnant sheepdog (Sirius did not know it was pregnant) for a cheap price, Sirius brought it and the bitch bred seven puppies within a month. They sold off five, but kept two.

The Black's had a lot of animals and their home was rather like a farm. They had nineteen chickens, two cows (Ivy and Daisy), one pig (Sophia), one goat (Bill), two horses (Dragon and Domino), three dogs (Jessie, Ben and Ollie) and two cats (Sammy and Sid). It was hard to remember their names, and they had long ago forgotten that the pig was called Sophia and the goat Bill, and they were now just reference as their animal names.

"Which one was it?" James asked.

"The black and white one," the other boy said.

Sirius laughed, though he was mightily annoyed that a chicken had entered his house. "They're all black and white you idiot. If you want us to keep paying you you'll go and fetch it and make sure no more get into my house! If Miss. Rosier sees it she'll be a lot less kind than me about it. You understand?" The boy saluted and sprinted in direction of the house. "How many eggs have you collected today, Jimmy?"

"Seven, Mr. Black," Jimmy the blonde boy answered. "Katie's got them in the basket."

"How many yesterday?"

"Nine, Sir."

"Keep them together and then sell them on Saturday at the market. Keep all the money this week; you've been working hard to sort out those horses; you deserve the extra." Jimmy and Katie looked thrilled, and thanked Sirius repeatedly and got back to work. Sirius and James walked back to the house. "What are you doing around here then?"

"I came to see if you wanted to go up to Diagon Alley with me. Lily sent me to go and get the Christmas presents for the kids, and I don't know which set of robes Sybbie wants. Lily said you'd know – she said you'd know _exactly_ which ones I'd need, right down to the last cotton fibre."

"Well, if Harry wrote to you and in every letter described the robes he wanted you to buy him for Christmas for the past month, you'd remember them pretty well. What do I get Harry and Jacob for Christmas, then?"

"Jacob wants a new chess set from you and Harry would like a new quaffle."

"An excuse to stop off at the Quidditch shop then. So? I want to the big news – how did Harry get on with the Quidditch game? Did he pummel Slytherin to a pulp?"

Fifteen minutes before Lily had arrived home, James received a letter from Harry describing the Quidditch game. Unbeknownst to James, Harry had left out a rather crucial element of the game: Harry having his broom cursed. Proudly, James beamed. "He caught the snitch and beat Slytherin one hundred and seventy points to sixty. He caught it in his mouth and he still won the game!"

They entered the house where the smell of Helena's glorious cooking filled the abode. They stopped to greet Helena then moved onto the fire place, where they promptly flooed to Diagon Alley to start their shopping.

It was difficult for the two men to not go directly to the Leaky Cauldron, and James had to keep nudging Sirius forward when he attempted to go to the bar. They made it out onto the street, James with a piece of parchment in his hand and the two men went directly to the Quidditch shop.

They got through three shops within half an hour, and it was Madam Malkin's robe shop that took the longest. The two men tried their best to describe the robes in question to Malkin, and eventually, after ten minutes, she brought the (expensive) robes out they needed. James – who was exhausted from the hunt – just put down a small stack of galleons without asking the price and left a joyous Madam Malkin, counting the galleons with a large grin on her face.

"I hope Sybbie doesn't change her mind on these," James grumbled. "If she does she's getting them anyway. I probably paid too much, but right now I'm too aggravated to care. Let's go to the Leaky Cauldron, my round."

"We have to go to the Apothecary," Sirius reminded.

"We'll go after – come on! There's a glass of Goblin Gin with my name on it and after going into Madam Malkin's, I really need a drink!"

"I need a drink to," Sirius agreed. "But I really think we ought to go into the Apothecary. It won't take long; five minutes at the most and then _I'll_ buy you a drink."

"I can't say no to that," James relented and the two men headed to the Apothecary.

Now, if they had chosen to take James' advice, their day may have ended a little different if they ignored Sirius'. When they first entered the shop, it was deserted – even the woman behind the counter was gone. Sirius called her name but there was no answer. Figuring she would just be round the back, the two men began looking for the pain potion, which was usually easy to find, but it took a bit of struggle now.

Just as Sirius found it, and waved the little transparent bottle in the air to James, the bell on the door rang. Instinctively, the two men turned their attentions to the door and there, wearing long black dress robes and a maroon scarf, stood Severus Snape.

Sirius was ecstatic when he saw Severus, and his mouth dropped open. James, on the other hand, wished he could disappear on the spot.

They had not seen the man since they were seventeen-years-old and they had no reason to. Severus Snape was a Death Eater and Albus Dumbledore a fool for allowing him to work with children. Severus looked as shocked to see James and Sirius as James and Sirius were to see Severus.

"Merlin's beard, Severus Snape," Sirius mused, shaking his head. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

"Sirius Black," Severus duly noted. "An honour to be acquainted with you again."

The sarcasm was evident in both men's voices, and while Sirius was hasty to speak to Severus, James on the other hand, was not. "Sirius... We um – we need to pay for this."

"Just a minute James; we're reacquainting ourselves with an old friend! Merlin, we haven't seen you since Hogwarts and that were – what? Fourteen years ago maybe? You have not changed a bit."

Severus eyed Sirius appallingly. "Neither have you."

"Well, I've always been a handsome one, haven't I James?"

"Sirius, we need to _go_!"

"We have to pay for the potion!" Sirius exclaimed. "We can't let Lily go without."

James wished that Sirius hadn't brought Lily up, and he also wished he had been more insistent on taking Sirius to the Leaky Cauldron. Perhaps then, this conversation might never have happened, and James would not be looking around the shop for a potion to help him escape this situation. A potion, he wouldn't have even minded, that lead to death. Death would be a lot less painful than this.

"No," James agreed. "We can't."

Severus turned in the opposite direction from where James and Sirius were stood, and began looking around the shop. "What are you looking for, Severus?"

Severus was slow to reply. "Gurdyroots."

"Smoking them?" Sirius asked cheekily.

Severus turned his head. "No; I need them for my first-year class; we're low on stock."

"Oh, I think I saw them somewhere... They're by James. James, get our good pal Severus some roots."

James risked a glance at Severus, who was as pale and uncomfortable as James. He cleared his throat and turned to the shelf, picking up the only box of Gurdyroots that were left. He delayed his time when fetching them and turned around to face his old nemesis. Severus made no inclination to move, so James had to do so, or risk throwing the Gurdyroots and knocking over some colourful vials that he was sure was worth a lot of money. He passed it with an outstretched hand, and Severus was careful to make haste to collect it. The two men looked each other in the face, and it was James who backed down first.

"How's Harry?" James inquired. "Is he well?"

"I suppose," Severus replied.

"How's Sybbie – Sybil?"

Severus turned to Sirius. "She is quite well and settled in well. I don't think, however, Potions is the right subject career for her – for your son, either, actually."

James frowned. "Why?"

"They lack the certain skill. Potions is a very difficult topic to master, only few have successfully done so."

"It can't be that hard; you're the Professor," Sirius retorted.

"Potions is a difficult subject to learn and to teach. Especially if the student in question's mind is always otherwise engaged."

"Meaning? Go on _Snape_, what's wrong with Sybil?"

"It's not Sybil I'm referring to," said Severus matter of factly. "It's your boy."

"Harry?" James echoed concerned. "What's happened with Harry that I need to know about?"

"You mean he hasn't told you?" Severus gasped. He was enjoying this. James could tell by the look on his face: a look of arrogance and hatred that clearly had not died after fourteen years. "While he was playing Quidditch on the weekend, his broom was cursed and he almost died."

"He almost _died_?" James croaked. "What? How?"

"Someone was cursing his broom. Oh _dear_ he didn't tell you and Dumbledore didn't either? Pity me, if I didn't know any better I'd say he didn't want you to know. Never mind; I think this is a conversation you ought to have with your son."

Severus took a step towards the counter, but James leaned forward and grabbed the sleeve of Severus' cloak. "Don't turn away from me Snape; what do you mean Harry was almost killed and his broom was cursed?"

"It's like I said," Severus began. "I think you ought to have this conversation with your son."

"Who was cursing him?" Sirius asked.

"I don't know," Severus admitted. "All I know is that it must have taken an incredibly talented Wizard to use the counter-curse to save him. Now it's been lovely to reunite with you both, but I must go; I have papers to mark and essays to fail. Send my regards to Lily – and Pettigrew too, if you ever see him."

Severus slammed some sickles onto the counter and fled from the shop, his robes swinging behind him. When he was barely out of the Apothecary and the door had not yet closed, Sirius exclaimed: "That bastard! What did he mean by all that?"

"I don't know," James muttered. "But I'm going to find out – SNAPE!"

James ran out of the street after Snape, the potion still in his hand and caught up with the man when he was a little distance away from the Leaky Cauldron. Snape turned around. "Who would have thought that James Potter would be the one running after me, Severus Snape?"

"What do you mean he almost died?" James demanded once Sirius had caught up. "Snape! This is my son and if he won't tell me what happened then you sure as hell will do. Now tell me what happened or I swear to Merlin I will hex you on the street."

Severus tutted. "You've clearly never asked a favour before. It seems your terrorizing hasn't left you from Hogwarts, I thought that after having two children you might have matured a bit since you were fifteen-years-old. I was mistaken."

"This isn't the same as back then," James snarled. "This is my son's life I'm talking about. Now we may not have gotten along back at Hogwarts, Snape, but you gave out what you got! If someone is trying to kill my son then I won't hesitate to send the Auror department down to your classroom one night and interrogate you. Now tell me: _what happened_?"

"You understand that Professor's don't sleep in their classrooms, don't you Potter?" Asked Snape.

Sirius withdrew his wand, and Snape eyed it cautiously. "You tell me what's happened to my Godson, or you _will_ be sorry."

The corner of Snape's mouth twitched. "It's like I said: Potter was on his broom at the Quidditch match and his broom malfunctioned. Someone was cursing it and before you ask, I do not know _who_ it was and it sure as hell wasn't me. So if that's it, I do need to get back home."

"Thank you," James breathed. "Thank you for telling me."

Snape's eyebrows rose and then dropped quickly. "Don't mention it." James rushed down the street and Sirius followed after him. He stopped, however, and turned back to Severus. "What do you want now?"

"Do me a favour, won't you Snape?" Sirius asked. "Two, actually."

"Why should I do that?" Snape solicited. "I can do one favour for Potter but you Black, sent me to my death in sixth year. I'm afraid I can't do anything for you."

"_Please_, it should be your duty as a teacher to do this nonetheless."

"You want me to look after your daughter?"

Sirius nodded. "So to speak?"

"Don't you think I already have enough children to look after without adding yours to the list? I do my best for the wellbeing of my students. I don't see how Sybil is any different."

"Then can you do something for me?" Sirius asked. "And – and I promise to do anything you want."

Severus considered. "What do you want first?"

"I can't be around to shield Sybil from the truth while she's at Hogwarts, and Helena's scared out of her wit she'll find out the truth from someone other than us. We – we are planning on telling her, honest to Merlin we are, but please... We can't have her finding out from Draco Malfoy."

"You're wittering, Black. What is it?"

Sirius sighed. "If you find out – or have an inkling – that Sybil is trying to find out who her real Father is, would you please write to either Helena or me and tell us, and try and stop Sybil from finding out for herself? Put her in detention – dock points – do whatever you want I don't care. Just _please_ don't let her find out in any other way but us."

"You must really hate the man," Severus said.

"He's dead."

"Then why the concern?"

"Because I can't let Sybil find out."

"Tell me who it is and I'll judge whether or not I _should_ stop her."

Sirius eyed him. "How can I trust that you won't expose it to her yourself? I'm sure you'd love to get one over on me."

Severus cocked his head to the side. "Really Black? You think I'm that petty that my revenge on you would be ruining your Daughter's life if this man is so bad? No, you'll just have to do a favour for me when I need it like you said. Agreed?" Sirius was hesitant to trust the man, but he would take the risk if it meant protecting his Daughter. So Sirius leaned into Severus' ear and whispered the name. Upon hearing, Severus' face fell and his eyes widened. Sirius drew back and glared at him. "Consider it done."

* * *

Harry was in the library with Hermione the following week, trying to find out who Nicholas Flamel was. They were both craning over a rather large book about famous, previous Alchemists, and for the umpteenth time, Hermione was asking why Harry didn't just ask his parents who he was.

"Because Hermione," began Harry. "When I wrote to them asking about three headed dogs, they sent me a three page letter back telling me why I shouldn't go poking my nose into other people's business! It took me _and_ Ron two letters each persuading them not to tell Dumbledore what we've done. I can't risk being pulled out of Hogwarts! I've told you this already!"

"I'm sorry, Harry, but I'm just getting annoyed. We've been on Nicholas Flamel's case for almost a month and we've gotten nowhere."

"Actually, Hermione, it's only been a week, but I promise you I will look around for more information while I'm at home!" He vowed.

She seemed unsure whether or not he was going to do this. "Is there anyone at home you can write to?"

"No," Harry admitted. "Uncle Sirius and Aunt Helena would tell Mum and Dad and Uncle Remus _definitely_ would. I can't exactly trust my _brother_ to do something like this for us. We'll have to wait until I get home."

They looked for several more minutes and Harry had quickly decided he was bored. Ron had been held captive by his elder brother Percy for the evening, so it was only Hermione and Harry in the library. Harry had his brown satchel school bag with him, and he pulled it onto his lap. Hermione was oblivious, until Harry pulled out a chocolate frog box and stated to open it.

"Harry!" She exclaimed, snatching the frog and keeping a watchful eye out for Madam Pince. "Have you never been to a library before – do you not know the rules? _No eating in the library_!"

"No food in the library?" Harry echoed. At that moment, they were joined by Ron, who looked grumpy and agitated and was muttering under his breath. "Oh Merlin, what did Percy want?"

"To tell me that Mum and Dad are going to visit Charlie in Romania for Christmas and the rest of us have to stay behind at Hogwarts for Christmas!" He exclaimed, his voice rising, causing Hermione to worry about Madam Pince.

"You can stay with me," Harry offered. "I'm sure Mum and Dad will let you; you can sleep in my room."

Ron smiled. "Thanks."

"It took Percy _half_ an _hour_ to tell you that?" Hermione whispered, seemingly annoyed. "That is valuable time you could have been researching about Nicholas Flamel!"

"Relax," Ron decided, and took the chocolate frog from Hermione. "Are you eating this?"

"NO!" She exclaimed loudly, and then looked around horrified. "No! No I am not! There is no eating in the library!"

"No food in the library?" Ron reiterated. "I knew there was a reason I never came in here. Where's the Librarian?"

"_Madam Pince_ is over in the Herbology section – no Ron! That doesn't mean you can eat it! If you open that box anymore I swear to Merlin Ronald Weasley I will reach over this table and strangle you with that tie."

"Relax," he echoed, pulling the box open. The frog escaped before Harry or Ron got the chance to catch it. "Damn it." Hermione rolled her eyes and got back to the book. "Where's the card? Oh, here, I think it's stuck."

He pulled the box apart until he got to the card, and he dropped it and gasped, causing Hermione to look up from her book. "What is it?"

"The card," Ron said in admiration. "It – it's him!"

Hermione snatched it before Harry could seize the chance to see who it was. "Dumbledore? I heard that if you give him his own chocolate frog card, he gives you five house points."

"Read it," Ron commanded and passed the card to Hermione. "Read the card."

"Considered by many to be the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of Dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel... Stay there!" She jumped up, and returned with an enormous book in her arms. "Thank Merlin I found this; it had been taken out just the other day. I wanted to borrow it for a bit of light reading-"

"Light reading?" Ron reiterated. "Hey Hermione, I bet you're pleased we broke the rules about eating in the library now, aren't you? If I wasn't so hungry, we might never have discovered this."

"There are _plenty_ of Dumbledore cards and I'm sure the two of you would eat more chocolate frogs between the two of you – found it! Nicolas Flamel," she whispered dramatically, "is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone!"

"I know what that is," said Harry proudly. "I heard Mum and Dad talk about it with some others before I went to Hogwarts. It's a stone that can bring people back from the dead."

"No it isn't," said Hermione bluntly. "Firstly, _nothing_ can bring someone back from the dead, and the Philosopher's Stone is much more interesting. It says here: 'The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Philosopher's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal. There have been many reports of the Philosopher's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover. Mr. Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight)." Ron whistled. "That's what the dog must be guarding!"

"No wonder Snape wants it; _I_ want it!"

"And no wonder we couldn't find Flamel in that Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry," said Ron. "He's not exactly recent if he's six hundred and sixty-five, is he?"

Hermione rose out of her seat, tucking the leather book under her arm. "I'm going to put this back."

"I thought you were going to borrow it for a bit of 'light reading'," said Ron.

"Why would I?" Hermione asked, pulling a piece of paper out of her pocket. "When I have all the information I need right here."

Harry whistled. "Who would have thought Hermione Granger would deface a school book? I think we're setting a bad influence on you."

"Don't feel too pleased; I feel terrible for what I've done. I'll put it back when we're done. It will be as good as new and no one will ever have to know."

"You don't need to say that to us," said Ron, "say it to Madam Pince of McGonagall when they come for you at the dead of night and make you-"

"-I'll take it," Harry interrupted.

"What? The book?" Harry nodded and Hermione passed it to him. "Thank you, Harry. It belongs in the aisle between Potions and Charms. I don't expect you'd know where to find the Infamous Wizards aisle."

"I wouldn't," Harry replied.

He wanted to put the book back because he had been meaning to leave Hermione for a while now. This was because Sybil had been sat in the library with Blaise the whole time and he had wanted to speak with her. Ideally, he wanted to ask her if she knew anything about a three-headed-dog. He had wanted to ask her the last time he saw her in the library, but it hadn't been the best of opportunities. So he put the book back anywhere and went to join her at the table. It was empty apart from her.

"Sybil," Harry smiled.

"Hullo Harry," she greeted.

"How are you? Happy Birthday by the way."

She frowned. "My birthday was two weeks ago."

"I never saw you on your Birthday; I was playing Quidditch."

"You played well," she noted. "Do you want something? Blaise will be back any second."

"I just wanted to um – speak with you."

She raised her eyebrow in speculation – something Harry could not do. "Speak with me? Harry, you _never_ speak to me unless you want something."

"I just – why are you sitting with Zabini? I didn't know the two of you were friends."

"You think my only friend is Draco?"

"No – I know you're friends with Daphne and Parkinson and some of the other girls-"

"-And I didn't know _you_ were friends with Hermione Granger, now. I knew the two of you were getting along, but you seemed rather _chummy_ over there until Weasley came and sat with you... Anything you ought to be telling me?"

Harry laughed. "Me and Hermione? No. What about you and Zabini, then? Or would you prefer his friend Nott?"

"Nott?" She scoffed. "Please, that boy is insufferable."

"And Blaise isn't?"

"Why are you bothered?" She inquired, finally looking up from the book she was reading. She leaned against her hand and smirked at him. "Jealous?"

It was Harry's turn to scoff. "Of course." Perhaps if Blaise hadn't returned, Harry might have asked Sybil about the Philosopher's Stone. But he did return, and he couldn't, and he had to pretend he was making important idle chit-chat with her. "So are you coming home for Christmas?"

"I am – I signed Professor Snape's sheet just this morning. Are you coming home?"

"Yeah, and I'm going to ask Mum and Dad if Ron can stay round."

When Blaise sat back down in his seat, he ignored Harry and gave Sybil the book. "Thank you, Blaise. Is there anything else you need, Harry?"

"Uh, no. Have a nice week, Sybil."

"Thanks," she replied before Harry promptly got up and left.

Blaise turned to Sybil. "What did Potter want?"

"I have absolutely no idea. He never said..."

"Has a habit of that, doesn't he?" Blaise asked.

"Yes," Sybil mused. "Yes I suppose he does."


	19. A Christmas of Events

For the last week of the school term, Hogwarts had been decorated accordingly for the festivities. There were humongous Christmas trees draped in fairy lights, littered with magical crackers and fake presents underneath. The ceiling had been enchanted to make it snow, but there was little need for it, because the weather outside, was actually snowing for the majority of the week.

Nearly everyone at Hogwarts was enjoying the snow – apart from Professor Quirell, who after having snowballs thrown at the back of his turban never stepped foot outside of the castle again. Even Draco Malfoy was seen out in the snow, granted, he was throwing huge clumps of ice at Neville with Crabbe and Goyle, but it was a change to see him laughing and having fun rather than sulking by the fire in the Common Room.

It was no different back in London, either. The snow was inches deep and children were playing on the streets, having snowball fights or making snowmen. The Black's home was always the best for playing in the snow, and the three young children could spend hours together sledging down the hill, making snow men, throwing snow and scaring the animals and throwing snow at Muggle passersby's. It seriously was a great time for them.

So fun, in fact, that when Helena, Sirius, James and Lily told them to get ready for Kings Cross, Castor and Jacob were immediate to get ready. They knew that their sons would wreak havoc on the streets of London, and by the time they reached Kings Cross, the parents had received three Muggle business men shouting at them to keep their children on a leash. However, one of those times it had been Sirius throwing the snow.

"And that is why you don't throw snow at strangers," Helena laughed when the man skulked off. "They get grumpy and threaten to call the Police." Sirius joined his wife's side. Castor and Jacob were up ahead, the four adults trailing behind. "So I was thinking you all come round to ours tonight for a welcoming home dinner for Sybbie and Harry. What do you think?"

"I was going to offer the same thing," Lily declared.

"You can hold it in the summer," Sirius suggested. "I'm sure James will _love_ to play with the barbeque again."

"It wasn't my fault I set the hedge on fire, Sirius," he reminded. "If you hadn't thrown the Quaffle at my head, I never would have tipped the barbeque over and all its contents, and be shouted at by our neighbour."

"You ended up ordering pizza from the place down the street!" Lily laughed. "Merlin if it wasn't for your wife's the two of you would be morbidly obese."

"I dread to think what Harry will come back like from Christmas," said James, "if it wasn't for Quidditch training I _would_ have been fat."

"I did alright," Sirius reminded. "Then again, my parents did force me to starve up away in my room every night since third year. If you want Harry to lose weight, just don't feed him for three days straight. Lock him in a cupboard under some stairs and I'm sure he'll shed the weight right off."

"They really did that?" Helena asked.

Sirius nodded. "Yeah – and when I got out of my room I smashed my parent's entire collection of finest china and man they were pissed with me. Locked me up for another day and I broke all Ma's jewellery. Then the cycle would just repeat itself until I went back to school."

Then they reached King's Cross, and the two boys were ordered to hold their Mother's hands so they couldn't stray off while they walked through the busy station.

They stopped at the barrier for Platform Nine and Three Quarters and waited for Sirius and James to arrive with trolleys for their children's luggage. Sirius went in first with Castor (who was sitting on the trolley) and then James and Jacob (Jacob was swinging on the trolley) and then followed by Helena and Lily, who were walking in an orderly fashion as their children should have been.

When they arrived on the platform, there were a few minutes left until five o'clock when the train was due to arrive. Come five o'clock, the scarlet steam engine pulled up on the platform and within seconds of it stopping, students started piling out so quickly you might think there was a fire onboard.

Families on the platform were straining their necks to catch a glimpse of their children, brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, grandchildren the lot. In the Potter's case, it was Harry who saw them first, and he and Ron pulled their trunks to Harry's family.

Lily was overwhelmed to be reunited with her son, and when he was in close range, she pulled him into a deathly tight hug. When she finished with Harry and it was James' turn, she hugged Ron, too.

"Thank you for letting me stay with you Mrs. Potter," Ron thanked, his voice muffled by Lily's coat.

"It's no problem Ron," she told him. "You're welcome round ours _anytime_. You know that."

Ron appreciated that. "Thank you."

A few minutes passed and the welcoming had faded. Still, they could not leave the station until Sybil had arrived and she had yet to come. Impatient, Helena asked Harry: "Where is she?"

"She was in Compartment A," Harry told her. "That's all the way down there – she's probably looking for you."

Sirius cast a sideways glance at Helena. "Or... She's..."

"Nah," James shook his head. "I'll go and see if I can find her. Stay here."

James quickly left, and Ron looked as confused as his best friend. "Where's Dad gone?" Harry asked.

"To find Sybbie," Lily told him. "He'll be back in a minute."

Sure enough, James returned with Sybil. She was carrying her trunk and James was laughing at something. Helena looked so relieved to see her daughter, and when she arrived, she dropped to her knees and engaging Sybil in a death trap.

"Her trunk had been knocked over by some fifth years," James informed Sirius. "They thought it would be funny."

"Dicks," Sirius muttered under his breath until it was his turn to greet his Daughter. "Don't they feed you at Hogwarts anymore?" Sirius asked. "Merlin the two of you – _three_ of you, look thinner than a broomstick."

"I skipped Breakfast," Sybil excused. "I slept in."

"You'll have plenty of time for that when we get you home," Helena told her. "So come on then, tell us how Hogwarts was."

They prepared to leave the station, and because of the fuss of the two children being home, Castor and Jacob were able to creep off to the side without being noticed. They had already greeted their elder siblings, and would have plenty of time to spend with them when they got home.

"It's great," Harry replied. "Quidditch is the best part, though."

"Minerva told us that you played your first game really well," Lily informed. "I only wish I could have gone to see you play."

"When he plays for England you can," James said.

"Imagine that: Harry Potter: Youngest England Seeker in the World! Oh man, we would never lose to Bulgaria ever again!" Sirius cried.

"I'm not going to play for England," said Harry, "I'm not _that_ good."

"Yeah you are," Ron differed. "You caught the snitch in your _mouth_, you didn't choke, your broom was hexed and still you won the game! There's no way England wouldn't want you to play for them!"

"If we keep talking about Quidditch the three of you aren't going to get to tell us about your lessons," Lily reminded. "How are they? Are you doing well?"

"Lessons are boring, Lils," Sirius stated.

"We want to know everything about Hogwarts and save Quidditch for later."

"Quidditch is boring," Sybil opinionated. "I didn't go to Slytherin's last game."

"_Why_?" Harry asked.

Sybil shrugged. "Quidditch is boring. I went to see _your_ first game, but after ten minutes I just wanted to go back inside. Quidditch just isn't for me."

"I did not raise you like that," said Sirius.

"I like _Professional_ Quidditch better – who wants to watch some boys fly around on a broom for a couple of hours?"

"The Gryffindor team has three girls," Harry defended. "We're not sexist, where as Slytherin, well... You have seven boys."

"Yes," Sybil agreed. "It's unfair – but no girl in Slytherin _ever_ tries out for Quidditch."

"You've only been there for a year," Helena soothed. "My best friend tried out for Quidditch when I was at Hogwarts. No, she didn't get in, but she tried _really_ hard. I thought we weren't going to talk about Quidditch anyway," she quickly added. "How's your new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor?"

They were just getting out of the station when the three Hogwarts students simultaneously said: "Boring."

"He stinks of garlic," Harry added.

"He won't be around too long," Sirius said.

Harry looked up at him. "Why?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor's only ever last one year. It was like that all the way through school for us and has continued since. It's like it's cursed or something. So he stinks of garlic, eh?"

The conversation continued like that for a while, and the two families split off their conversation. The Potter's talked about Harry's Quidditch victory, while the Black's talked about Sybil being in Slytherin. "So go on then," prompted Sirius. "What's it like being in Slytherin?"

"It's not that bad, actually," she admitted. "A lot of the people are _really _nice. At the beginning of term two sixth years made sure I found all my classrooms well and I've made _lots_ of friends."

"Like Malfoy?" Sirius pressed.

"He's not _so_ bad."

"Sybil," Helena snapped. "Sybil his family is _bad_. His Father was a Death Eater and – and his _Grandfather_... I don't even want to go into what his Grandfather has done."

"Why not? Go on," she dared. "Tell me just how _bad_ my friend's family is."

"Well, for starters, he was a Death Eater," began Sirius. "And he forced the first Muggleborn Minister of Magic to resign. He tortured three innocent Muggleborns on the Wizenagamont when his brother was being tried to make them see him as innocent. He killed nine Aurors in nineteen-sixty-nine and then the following week went onto torture a Muggle man and his wife, rape their Daughter and forcing them to watch."

Sybil started stammering. "D – Draco's not like that! He said himself the things his Grandfather did were horrific!"

"And you _believe _him?" Sirius asked. "Sybbie Darling, please just stay away from Draco Malfoy. If he says anything to you or does anything to you then you tell Professor Dumbledore straight away. Can you understand now why we worry about you?"

"Will you stay away from Malfoy, Darling, please?" Helena begged. "He – We have no right in telling you what you can and can't do, but please my Darling, just _be_ careful."

Bitterly, she mumbled to Sirius: "This is all _your_ fault!"

"My fault?" Sirius echoed. "How is this _my_ fault?"

"You hate Slytherin's!" She cried, causing Harry, Ron, James and Lily to turn around. Jacob and Castor, however, continued playing in the front of the group. "You – You hate that _I'm_ a Slytherin and you hate me for it!"

"Your Dad doesn't hate you, Sybbie," Lily soothed. "He just worries about you – we _all_ do."

"We don't want you falling down the wrong path," James told her. "We care about you."

"Obviously not! You're not saying any of this to Harry – you're not warning _him_ about the Malfoy family! What, do you think I'm just going to become like Draco and his Grandfather over night? It isn't my fault that the hat chose Slytherin, alright, it's where I belong. Now, just because of one decision it's not going to make me be like the Malfoy's or Lord Voldemort. I'm not a Malfoy, I'm not going to _be_ a Malfoy because I'm not like them!"

"Darling, you can't act like we don't have a reason to be worried," Helena said calmly, "my brother was a Death Eater and your Dad and I were raised surrounded by them-"

"How would _you_ know he's not my Dad," she said spitefully, pointing at Sirius. "You just say you are."

"Sybbie..." Sirius trailed off, wishing for the first time that he was not surrounded by the Potter's. "I _am_ your Father."

"No you're not," she snapped. "I don't know who my Father is because you've never told me! You – You don't let me remember him. I lived with him for a year, if you remember? Well, I can't, because whenever I ask about him you get scared and try and distract me, well not anymore. I'm going to find out who my Father is."

"Oh and how do you plan on doing that?" Helena asked.

"I – I'll read a book," she said.

"Read a book?" Helena echoed. "There isn't a book on Sybil Rosier's Father. You're just going to have to understand that you don't need his family in your life; you've gone eight years without them and you can go the rest of your life again-"

Exasperated: "Can't I find that out for myself?"

"If they thought you needed him in your life they would have told you," James informed. "Trust me, you don't need him."

"They all know! You _all_ know and you can't even tell me. I bet Harry knows – I bet even Ron knows but you're all too scared to tell me. Well, you know what, as soon as I find out who my Father is and my _real_ family, I'm going to live with them."

"You want to know who your Father is?" Helena asked. "It's this man who's standing right beside you! The man who was kind enough to let you live with him when you were four-years-old! He didn't _have_ to let you live with him – he didn't have to let any of us live with him, but he did because he is the kindest soul on the planet, and one hundred times better the man than your Father ever was. Now, he took us in when we were almost on the streets, and I think you owe him an apology."

"No," Sirius began. "No, no you don't."

"Sirius-"

"-It's fine," Sirius said adamantly. "It doesn't matter."

It did matter, though. He knew that Sybil would want to find out who her real Father was, eventually, and they should just tell her. He had wanted to tell her to avoid all this, but Helena would not allow it. It wasn't Sirius' decision because Sybil wasn't his Daughter, not really, no matter how much he wanted it. She belonged to a man that had died almost ten years ago. She belonged to a dangerous man and she belonged to a man who didn't deserve her like Sirius did. Sybil's Father was a man who could never love his Daughter like Sirius loved her. He was unworthy of her.

* * *

Predictably, the Black's called off their Dinner and split off from the Potter's at their home. As the Potter's house was the first that they reached, the five who stayed there went inside.

"Do you know who Sybil's Dad is?" He added the last bit quietly to Harry as he hung up his coat.

"No," Harry shook his head.

"Poor Sirius," Lily sighed. "Oh I can only imagine the man who abandoned Helena and Sybbie. Poor Sirius."

"Poor all of them," Jacob sniffed. "When's Dinner?"

"Later," Lily said, "go and help Harry and Ron unpack, won't you Jacob?"

"Do I _have_ to?" Jacob groaned.

"Yes," said James, "I need to talk to your Mum."

James pulled the two trunks into Harry's room where Harry and Ron would be staying. Ron would be staying on the mattress on the floor over Christmas as they had no other room for him, but Ron was perfectly comfortable there as he was whenever he slept round the Potter's. After a couple of minutes James left the three boys alone, shutting their bedroom door behind him as he left. All through the house, on the way to the Kitchen, he closed every door. Lily was preparing Dinner but averted her attention to her Husband as soon as he entered the room.

"You know who Sybbie's Father is?"

James nodded. "Sirius told me and Remus a couple of weeks after he turned up-"

"He turned up When?"

"Just before he died," he replied. "Has Helena told you who he is?"

Lily shook her head. "No – I can't believe you kept this from me! Does Helena know that you know?"

"No," James answered. "So you can't tell her that you know."

Lily promised that she wouldn't, so accepting her word, James told her who the mystery man was. As soon as she found out her face fell and contorted into one of panic and shock. James gave her a knowing look. "Merlin, no wonder they're so worried about Sybbie!"

"Which is why you can't tell _anyone_ that you know. Could you imagine the scandal that would surround Sybbie for the rest of her life if people found out the truth?"

"That poor girl – why hadn't they told her? They should have told her by now."

"Sirius wanted to, but Helena was too... _ashamed_."

"Ashamed? Oh and to think she went through it all alone! Sirius did the right thing in taking them all in – imagine what would have happened if Sybbie stayed with him! Imagine what sort of people she would be growing up with! Oh no, this is terrible!" James agreed with her. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"I'm not even meant to know," reminded James. "No one else knows but the five of us. Possibly _his_ relatives might know, but I don't really want to ask them."

"MUM! DAD! JAKE'S BEEN SICK!"

The parent's responded to Harry's cry by rushing as quickly as possible upstairs, and sure enough, Jacob was in the bathroom with his head over the toilet, Ron and Harry by either side. Lily ushered them out of the way and crouched onto her knee's by Jacob's violently sick body.

"You two go and finish packing," James advised. "You don't really want to see this."

The two complied without hesitation and James watched as his son was graphically sick in the toilet loudly, with his wife rubbing his back. It made James _feel_ sick to just watch. After a few minutes of Jacob emptying his stomach contents, Lily poured him a glass of water and sat him on the toilet.

"Are you okay now Sweetheart?" Lily soothed, stroking Jacob's hair. "Do you still feel sick?" He nodded and took another sip of water. "You look very green, perhaps you should go to bed."

"Go to bed and I'll get you a bucket," James offered. "And if you feel up to it, you can have some Dinner later."

"I'm sure you'll feel better tomorrow Darling."

* * *

Jacob didn't feel better in the morning, and in face, he felt much, _much_ worse.

He had been violently sick throughout the night and was coughing and sneezing and spluttering and crying. It had kept the whole house awake, but in case it was contagious, Harry and Ron were banished to their bedroom, living room or kitchen just so long as they were away from Jacob and his germs.

At three o'clock in the morning, more symptoms appeared – quite palpable ones, too. Jacob had turned green within the hour and several small spots covered his body. It was clear to his parent's that it was Dragon Pox.

"Dragon Pox can't make you sick," said James, "I had it when I was younger and it wasn't this bad."

By this time, Jacob was asleep, and Lily and James were creeping back to their bedroom. "Harry's was barely noticeable. I never had it - though I _did_ have a bad case of chicken pox when I was ten. How long does Dragon Pox last?"

"Normally a week, but in some cases it's two weeks."

"A _week_?" Lily echoed. "He's going to be like this for a week? Oh poor Jacob... Is there anything that can be done – a cure of some sort?"

"I can go to the Apothecary in the morning and by a potion for it. It doesn't stop Dragon Pox, but it does stop it becoming fatal."

"Is it contagious?" James nodded. "We'll need to keep Harry and Ron away from him while he's still got it."

Exhausted from tending to Jacob, James and Lily fell almost immediately asleep.

* * *

At school the next day, when the performance class had to attend rehearsals, upon hearing the news that Jacob would not be in the play, Ms. Menzies was far from happy about it. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE CAN'T DO THE SHOW?" Was her immediate cry. "No, no, no this is all going terribly wrong! What's wrong with him?"

"He's got Chicken Pox," Callie informed.

"He should have caught it _years_ ago! Well, we're going to have to find a replacement for Jake, aren't we? Just make sure the two of you keep away from him! We need our star performers up and healthy by _Friday_!"

Friday was the day of the performance, and without Jake, it seemed pointless. Once Ms. Menzies scurried away to find a replacement for Jake, Castor turned to speak with Callie. "She took that better that I thought."

"Mhm," Callie mused. "I don't want to do this play without Jake!"

"Me neither," Castor agreed. "But we can't just back out of it!"

It took Callie a moment to reply, but then a smile crept up onto Castor's face. "Oh no, you're planning something... Is Ms. Menzies going to shout at me again?"

"She can't shout at us if _we_ catch Dragon Pox too," He grinned. "I've never had it... You've never had it and now Jake has it. It's not fair we do the play without him."

"And it's not fair we leave Ms. Menzies without an Eponine, Marius and Gavroche. We can't do it Castor; it's too unfair."

"You never even wanted to do the play in the first place, and you're leaving after Christmas; you can't get into any trouble! Besides, she's not going to tell us off for being _ill_, is she?"

"No, but our Dad's might; we're not allowed to see Jake!"

Castor's smirk only widened. "Leave that with me."

* * *

At three o'clock they were dismissed from the Hall and allowed home. Like always, Callie and Castor walked home together, but this time, instead of going to either of each other's houses, they went to Jacob's.

They crept around the side of the house as to not be seen by James or Lily. They guessed Jake would be in no fit state to answer the window, so getting a small stone, Castor threw it at Harry's bedroom window, hoping to Merlin that neither Lily nor James were in there doing washing. After no answer, Castor threw another one and another one, until Harry stuck his head out the window.

"What's going on?" Harry shouted. "Who's there?" Castor and Callie emerged from the side of the house. "What are you doing here? You're not allowed to see Jake."

"Keep your voice down," Castor hissed. "And let us up."

Ron appeared from the window. "What's going on?"

"They want to see Jake," Harry filled in.

"And you're going to climb up through the window?" Ron laughed. "Mrs. Potter's out to the Apothecary and Mr. Potter's at work, we'll let you in through the front door but do it quickly!"

The duo's dashed to the front door and true to his word, Harry unlocked it for them. He unlocked the door for them, but he did not, however, let them through. "What do you want with Jake?"

"We just want to see him," Callie lied. "We miss him."

Harry and Ron exchanged glances. "You _miss_ him?"

"Terribly," Castor added. "Can we go and see him?"

Harry and Ron stepped aside, and the two younger children ran through their bodies. Harry locked the door and hung the key up, and followed the two other's upstairs. By the time they got to Jacob's bedroom, Callie was closing the door on them. Harry and Ron continued to the former's bedroom.

Jacob's bedroom was as untidy as it ever was, this time, with various discarded tissues on the floor where he had missed the bin. His bed was by an open window and the blue curtains were swaying in the breeze. It was a fairy big bedroom, with blue wallpaper and Quidditch broomsticks along the bottom border, and a matching blue carpet, marked with various stains from over the years. It also consisted of a sofa pushed up against the wall with a bookshelf hanging over head, one wardrobe, a desk and chest of drawers, and Jacob's bedroom wasn't even the biggest in the house. Currently, he was asleep on his bed, and the conscious duo pulled up two chairs to sit by his bed with.

Castor began to shake Jacob. "Jake... Jake wake up... Jake... It's me Castor... Jake wake up before your parents get home!"

Groggily, Jake opened his eyes. "Castor, whayoudoin?"

"Came to see you," said Callie sweetly. "What else?"

It took Jake a few moments to regain himself, and straighten up in bed. He had a greenish tinge to his skin which made Castor doubt the plan entirely. "You're not allowed to be here," Jake informed. "You'll get sick."

"That's the idea!" Castor exclaimed.

"What?" Jake yawned. "What idea?"

"We're going to get sick like you!" Callie beamed. "Where are your tissues?"

"In the bin – and you don't want to be sick like me! It's horrible!"

"Sure we do!" Castor collected the tissues Jake had been using, and both Callie and Jake watched on as Castor attempted to make himself ill by using them. He held one out for Callie. "Your turn."

She took one between the tips of her fingers. "This is so not worth it."

As they were making themselves catch Jake's illness, he continued to warn them not to do it. "I was sick all night! I – I can't see properly, my head hurts, I ache and itch everywhere and I can't do anything! My throat burns, I've been sneezing and coughing all night – you don't want to get Dragon Pox! You really, _really_ don't!"

"And we really, _really_ don't want to do Les Misérables without you! Sybbie told me what _really_ happens in the play and it's sick that Ms. Menzies is making us do it! There's prostitutes and – it's not right for ten-year-olds!" Castor told him.

"So why has she made us do it?"

"She said it had something to do with a feety? Fetus?"

"_Fetish_," Jake supplied.

"Yeah, that. Have you eaten anything today?"

He nodded. "There's a bowl of soup by my bed."

"You're not hungry, are you Castor?" Callie asked incredulously. "You just ate a Mars Bar on your way down here!"

"Of course I'm not," he said, leaning across Callie's lap and extracting Jake's silver spoon and went onto lick it.

Callie paused mid-tissue. "That is absolutely disgusting."

"I've got some water over there I may have sneezed into," Jake laughed. "It's yours if you want it."

The youngest of the trio retrieved the aforementioned glass of water and held it for Callie. "As they say in France: Bon Appétit." She cringed before taking a large mouthful of the water. Surprisingly, it didn't taste infected. "Don't drink all of it! Save some for the evil master mind behind all this."

"I'll never let you forget this Castor Black," she vowed. "Not until the day I die."

"Excellent," he grinned. "More tissue?"

* * *

For the rest of the day, Castor felt no different, which was worrying. He had licked Jake's spoons, covered himself in tissue, drank bacterial water and Merlin knows what else to make himself get Dragon Pox, but it made no difference to him at all. The only noticeable change was that he had lost his appetite at Dinner, but perhaps being served almost raw steak was a high contributor to that.

"Steak's raw," Helena proclaimed as she stuck her fork into it. "Great."

"Put it back on the heat," Sirius suggested cutting into his. "Mine's fine."

"You have yours still raw almost anyone – _both_ of you do."

Castor shook his head and pushed his plate away. "I – I can't eat this."

Helena snatched his plate away, as well as her own and marched back to the kitchen. That left Sirius and his son sat at the large Dinner table. The Father smiled across at Castor. "She's not angry at you, she's just-"

"Angry at Sybbie?" Castor finished.

Sirius sighed. "You heard all that?"

"You were shouting all night," he confessed.

"I'm so sorry," Sirius told him. "Did – did you sleep well?" Castor shook his head, and it was Sirius' turn to feel guiltier. "I did wonder if there was something wrong with you; you're looking rather pale now."

"Really?" Castor asked with a smile, and after receiving a look from his Father, quickly attempted to hide it behind a glass of water. "Where is Sybbie?"

"At a friend's," Sirius told him.

"Who?"

"Daphne's," he told him. "They'd planned it a while back. She's staying the night."

"Oh," said Castor.

Sirius smirked. "Are you pleased she's back?"

"Of course not."

"Yes you are," Sirius teased. "You missed her, didn't you?"

"No I didn't!"

"Yes you did!" He laughed, putting his knife and fork down. "Don't hide it Castor; you missed your big sister!"

"Shut up," he mumbled from across the table.

Sirius chuckled into his steak, until a shout from Helena in the kitchen froze the two men. "CASTOR!" Came Helena's shout. "CASTOR COME AND GET YOUR DINNER!"

The two of them thought they were in trouble, and with a wink from his Father, Castor got out of his chair, but he started to feel faint. He took a moment to collect himself, but before he could take another step, he was sick everywhere on the Black's Dining Room floor.

* * *

Lily and Helena stood over their son's whom were laying side by side in Castor's bed, fast asleep and sickeningly ill. Lily had brought Jacob round earlier when she heard the news Castor had 'mysteriously caught Dragon Pox' as well. It was not hard to come to the conclusion that Castor had snuck out the house to see Jacob – and when Callie arrived a little while after Jacob after falling ill with a case of the Dragon Pox, their suspicions were only confirmed more.

"Talk about friendship," Remus mused to Helena and Lily as they stood at the door of the trio's bed. "According to Callie, she and Castor snuck round to see Jacob to make themselves _intentionally _ill so that they don't have to do the play without Jacob."

"What two idiots we've raised," Helena sighed. "Still, at least their Dragon Pox is out of the way and done with and they caught it young. I only caught it eight years ago."

"I never had it," said Remus, "I don't think it mixes well with me being a werewolf."

"Could you catch it now?" Lily asked.

"I didn't catch it when Pettigrew had it in third year," Remus reminded. "I don't think I'm going to catch it now. So what do we do about this? Shall we punish them – make them do the play anyway?"

"We can't really give a class of twenty Muggles Dragon Pox; that might raise suspicion," Helena pointed out. "I think this-" She referenced the trio coughing and spluttering in their beds. "Is punishment enough."

The adults left the room and went downstairs, where James and Sirius were waiting in the Dining Room for them. "So how are they?" James asked once they entered the designated room.

"Alive for now," Remus replied.

"I never had Dragon Pox this bad," Sirius mused. "Well it serves them right; they shouldn't have tried to get it in the first place."

"They wanted to see their friend," James reasoned.

"They wanted to get ill so that they didn't have to do Les Misérables – lazy sods," Sirius opinionated.

"I feel sorry for Ms. Menzies; she'll have to find _three_ replacements for three of the main characters."

"Will we get a refund on our tickets?" James asked. "We brought about eight between us. We don't still have to go, will we?"

"I never wanted to go in the first place," Sirius muttered. "Watch a bunch of nine-year-olds screaming opera? No thank you. I would much rather have my son lying in bed, diagnosed with Dragon Pox than suffer through that. Actually, _I'd_ rather be lying in bed and diagnosed with Dragon Pox than watch Les Misérables performed and directed awfully."

"Such a proud Father," Lily remarked. "If we ever wonder where Sybbie or Castor get their self-doubt from, we'll know the root cause." Lily hesitated, and then hastily added: "I didn't mean it like that, I meant-"

"It's fine," Sirius shook his head. "She'll get over it."

"Will she though?" Asked James. "She looked pretty mad when we saw her yesterday. How is she now?"

Sirius wasn't sure how to respond to that. "She's gone to stay with Daphne Greengrass."

"Greengrass? As in Isaiah's Daughter?" Remus coughed.

"The very same," Sirius sighed. "Chip off the old block I'd bet."

Ever since Lydia Greengrass died, Isaiah's promise to keep communicating with Remus and his niece faded away. Even Lydia's own sister, Deborah, stopped writing and visiting Callie and Remus within a year. "Small world."

"You'll be having them all round next for tea," James commented. "Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, Malfoy – you can host a little Death Eater party! You can make them cucumber sandwiches and pots of tea; won't that be so much fun, Sirius?"

"It's too early for humour on this," Sirius muttered. "But if it does come to having Malfoy or Goyle tea, I'll make sure to poison it."

"They could be your in-laws," James smirked. "Not Malfoy – but Crabbe or Goyle or Nott..."

"How fortunate that they're all in the same year," Helena said sardonically. "Do you think their parents all planned to raise the next generation of Death Eaters within the year? Goodness their play dates must be awful."

Lily jerked her head to the ceiling. "I'm sure the one's our kids are having aren't any better. Again, I'm so sorry Callie and Castor caught Dragon Pox."

"Blame Castor," Helena began. "He was the one who concocted this harebrained scheme to get him and Callie ill so they don't have to do the play without Jacob."

"You can't doubt their loyalty," sighed Remus. "Still, it was a foolish thing for Callie to _agree_ to do."

"We all do foolish things," Helena professed. "Some things more foolish than others."

And it didn't take a genius to work out what she was referring to.

* * *

_(Black's)_

Christmas in the Black family was rather... nonchalant. It was nothing special anymore, but when Sybil and Castor were younger, it was the most important day in the year. They would wake up at six o'clock in the morning, but now the excitement just wore off. Which was a shame, really, because Sirius never got to enjoy Christmas as a child, and he hoped, that his children would get the Christmas' he never got.

He read the Daily Prophet as he waited for his children and Helena to come downstairs. Christmas profits had hit a whole new low, as had the birth rate and unemployment rates. It was a shame they would analyse this information on what should be the happiest day of the year, and it took everything in Sirius' willpower not to read the obituaries like he did every day, in fright he would read a name he knew and Christmas would be spoiled. He once read the obituaries on his birthday, and that was the day he discovered Regulus' death. Since then, he vowed never to do so until his Birthday or Christmas had ended.

"You're up early," noted Sirius when he was joined in the Dining Room.

"Yep," came Sybil's blunt reply as she walked through the kitchen. "We got any juice?"

"There should be some in the Pantry," he replied.

Still, he had not managed to reunite himself with his Daughter. She made minimal contact with anyone in her family and was always reluctant to socialise even if she was made to. Sadly, for her, today was one of the days she would be reluctant to socialise.

"Have you opened any of your presents yet?" Sirius asked. "When you were younger we had to force you to wait for Castor."

"Well I'm not seven anymore," Sybil replied, joining Sirius in the Dining Room with a glass of pumpkin juice.

"I won't tell Mama if you want to open a present now," Sirius stated.

She shrugged. "Won't she notice?"

"No," he lied. "You can even open the biggest one."

She tried to stifle a smirk. "Mama'll _definitely_ notice."

"Probably," he agreed. "What time did you get to sleep last night? I heard you wandering around the floors at eleven o'clock last night. Was there something the matter?"

"No," replied Sybil. "Nothing at all." Sirius raised his eyebrow and she reluctantly gave in. "There was a noise outside – I – I thought you heard it. So I went downstairs and it was an owl. It had a Christmas present. For me."

"From one of your Hogwarts friends?" She nodded. "Which one?"

"Draco."

He felt his heart stop in his chest. "Really? And – and what was it?"

"I didn't open it," she answered truthfully. "I opened the card, though."

"Can I see it?"

She had it in her pink dressing gown pocket and handed it to Sirius. It was just a plain Christmas Card with a snowing village on the front. With shaking hands, he opened it. It read:

_Sybil,  
Hope you're having a lovely Christmas. Home is boring without you all. Wish you could come and visit; Mother and Father agreed. They said they consider you all 'one of the family'. Please do come visit.  
Yours, Draco_.

He closed it as cautiously as he had opened it and placed it on the table. She watched him, as if waiting for him to go ballistic.

"Get rid of it," Sirius demanded. "Throw it in the bin – throw it in the fire, but whatever you do, do _not_ let your Mama see it."

"What?" Sybil echoed. "Why not?"

Sirius quickly glanced at the door. "Sybbie, I – I think we need to tell you something, and I know you want to know more than anything. If it was up to me, I would have told you by now, but it's not, and I have to respect your Mama's wishes. The reason we're so apprehensive about you being in Slytherin – the only reason, in fact, is that your Father was-" he caught himself and stared at his Daughter. She wore an expression that showed deep curiosity, but at the same time, one that lacked interest. "Do – do you want to know who your Father is?"

The words caught on Sybil's breath. "Y-Yes," was her reply. "But I don't. I do want to know, but I don't want to know. I want to know so it's not some _massive_ secret I feel you're all keeping from me. I don't want to know because _you're_ my Dad. He couldn't be bothered with me, and you were and you didn't even know me – you hadn't even met me. I – I don't think I actually want to know."

Those words were music to Sirius' ears. "Are you sure?"

Sybil nodded. "Absolutely."

He doubted her. "I know when you lie, Sybbie. I know when you want the attention. I can guarantee you'd _much_ rather find out with one of your friends than from I."

"I'll rip up the card if it means so much to you."

"No," said Sirius, "don't."

But she did; she took the letter and ripped it up as she walked to the fire. Without hesitation, the letter joined the embers and burned and vanished in an instant. "Thank you," Sirius breathed. "You know I love you, don't you?"

She nodded. "Of course I know Dad; I love you too. Can I open one of my presents now, please?"

The reason she didn't need the letter anymore was that she had already written back to Draco, telling him that she could not visit. At the same time, however, she had also written to Blaise, expressing her interest into finding out who her Father was herself. In her other dressing gown pocket, was the reply she had received early this morning.

_Sybil,_

_It's great to hear from you and I hope you're having an enjoyable Christmas. Enclosed you should find my present, and if not, you should blame the owl; it's not always reliable when it comes to sending packages. As yours is, obviously, as it did not come to me with a present, either._

_Concerning your main objective in the letter, are you sure you want to do this? You told me how disappointed your parents would be, but I also told you I'd help you in any way possible, and that is true and I will stick by my word. We don't have to rush into this, you know. We can do this whenever or however you want. Just think this through before we start; you can't change your mind halfway through._

_Anyways, I hope to see you before we go back to Hogwarts and if so, I'll be at Diagon Alley on the 27th December around Lunchtime and we should hopefully see each other, but if not, enjoy the rest of your Holidays and know that I'm missing you._

_Love, Blaise._

But now, Sybil had to admit, she wasn't one hundred percent sure she wanted to find her Father, because she had the perfect one already, and he was sat across the table from her, and he was accepting and loving and gentle and kind, and according to everyone who knew her biological Father, he was _nothing_ like Sirius. Then again, in many ways, neither was Sybil – or had she forced herself to believe that, so that the revelation wouldn't be as tough on her?

Sirius, whom had been staring at her the whole time, noticed her absent mind. "Sybbie, is everything alright? Just day dreaming?"

She snapped back. "Huh – oh right, yeah. What did you just say?"

"I only said that I'm so pleased you're home. We really missed you."

"I missed you too," she confessed.

"Did you miss Castor?"

"No," was her reply.

"Of course you did – he missed you."

"Dad," Sybil began. "You're just going to have to accept the fact that Castor and I are never going to get along. He's an immature _idiot _and he doesn't even deserve to go to Hogwarts."

Sirius laughed. "He'll be going and you won't have a say, I'm afraid."

"Well I hope he'll be in Hufflepuff."

"What's wrong with Hufflepuff's?" Asked Sirius.

"Hufflepuff's are... _Irrelevant_. Gryffindor's are noble, chivalrous and mostly good people. Slytherin's are ambitious and is the greatest house, and Ravenclaw's are good-looking and smart. What are Hufflepuff's? _Kind_ and _loyal_. If you want someone that's kind and loyal, you get a dog, not a Hufflepuff."

As Sirius was laughing, they were joined by Helena who, upon watching Sirius laugh at something their Daughter said – something that seemed unlikely due to recent events – it was perfectly normal, that she would wear a look of shock (and relief) on her pretty face. "What's the joke?" She inquired.

"Sybbie's explaining what's wrong with Hufflepuff's," he elaborated. "She said: if you want someone that's kind and loyal, you get a dog, not a Hufflepuff."

Laughing: "Well it seems you've cheered up a bit since last week... Go and wake your brother up for me, Sybbie then the two of you can open your presents."

She bounded past Helena then ascended up the stairs. Once she had departed the room, Helena shut the door behind her. There were two reasons why Helena shut the door when she was in the room with Sirius: they were going to have sex, or, she needed to talk to him about something important. He expected the latter, but hoped for the first. "What have you said to her?"

Sirius opened up his paper nonchalantly. "I haven't said anything to her."

"_Sirius_."

"I didn't say anything to her," he repeated. "She got a letter from one of her friends from Hogwarts – Pansy Parkinson for your information – and then I asked her more about Hogwarts and now she seems fine... Why, what do you _think_ I said to her?"

"Nothing," she admitted. "Thank you."

She moved round and kissed him quickly. Confused, Sirius asked: "Thank you? Thank you for what?"

"Getting Sybbie back," she replied looking over her shoulder. "It wouldn't have been Christmas with Sybbie cooped up in her room, refusing to talk to anyone. So thank you for talking some sense into her."

"It's like I said," he began. "I didn't say _anything_ like that to her. She did it of her own accord."

She looked over and smirked at him. "Of course. I love you."

"I love you too," Sirius returned with a smile.

* * *

_(Potter's)_

There seemed to be some sort of ritual on Christmas Day that the Potter family never really discussed, just always went along with.

Every Christmas morning, Jacob would be the first to arise, and then he would wake up Harry. Then the two of them, running downstairs and fetching their stockings from above the fireplace, would run back upstairs and into their parents' room. There, sat on James and Lily's bed they would open their presents from their stockings, James and Lily watching on proudly. Then James would take a quick shower, Lily would take Harry and Jacob downstairs, put the kettle on and wait for James to join them. Once he joined the family, the four of them would open their present's one at a time. Lily would cook breakfast once the presents were opened, and would allow Harry and Jacob to eat their chocolate throughout the morning even before Breakfast. Then, for their following meal: brunch, either Helena or Lily would host Christmas Dinner, and this Christmas was no different, except, unlike last year, Lily would be hosting the Dinner and Ron was with them.

So the three boys were lying on the floor by the roasting fire, playing with Jacob's new toy Quidditch set directly after breakfast. James was casting the spell to wash the dishes and Lily was craning over a cooking book, while momentarily, dusters and cleaning supplies flew out of cupboard all round the house and began cleaning themselves. Lily was always like this when hosting a dinner; frantic and everything had to be perfect, and it always was.

"Does your Mum always get like this?" Ron asked, jerking his head to the kitchen. "Bothering about the kitchen like she's cooking for the Minister of Magic?"

"Uhuh," Jake confirmed. "Unless Aunt Helena's cooking, then she'll be the one getting stressed."

"Can't she do it by magic?" Inquired Ron.

"She does," notified Harry. "Oh yeah. This is what she's like _with_ magic. You should see her without; it _is_ like she's cooking for the Minister of Magic."

Ron let out a whistle. "Merlin..."

They played with their Quidditch set for a few extra minutes until James stepped into the room. "There's been a change of plan; Sybil _is_ coming to Dinner today," informed the Father of the two brunettes.

"Wasn't she before?" Jacob asked.

"We didn't think she would come," James admitted. "But according to Aunt Helena, she's a lot happier than she was the other week."

"It's Christmas," Ron decided. "Everyone's happier at Christmas."

"Which brings me to the topic of seating plans. Who's she going to sit next to?" James asked.

"Her parents?" Harry guessed.

"Lily's got it all figured out: I'll sit at one head of the table with Sirius to my right and Remus to my left. Lily will have Helena to _her_ left and Callie to her right, then the rest of you can fit into other places. Now, Sybil can either sit next to Callie and one of you; Castor doesn't want her near him. So who wants to do it?"

"Why doesn't Castor want to sit next to Sybbie?" Jacob asked.

"I think we'll find out at Dinner," sighed James. "Well? Harry – will you sit next to Sybbie?"

He was hesitant. "Must I?"

"Yes," smiled James. "You must. She's family."

"If she's family then why didn't she stop Malfoy from trying to hex me before Halloween?" Harry asked. "Why didn't she stop him stealing Neville's Remembrall and all the other times Malfoy hexed/threatened me to a duel?"

"I understand why you're bitter," James implicated. "But I think now is a chance to put your first four months at Hogwarts behind you and move on. You loved Sybbie before she went to Hogwarts, and don't let your different houses change that."

Ron sniggered. "You _loved _Sybbie?"

"Not like that," James corrected with a smile. "They were inseparable ever since Sybbie came into our lives though, you remember that? You, Callie and Sybbie were running around the gardens before your brother and Castor could even _walk_. You were like siblings-"

"I've already got a sibling," Harry muttered. "And it's bad enough I've got him."

"Hey!"

"Sit next to Sybbie," James demanded calmly. "It would really mean a lot to Sirius and Helena if you did."

Harry sighed and reluctantly agreed to, pushing his chaser closer to the post. "Fine, but Ron sits next to me as well and you _don't_ force me to make conversation with her."

"I won't," James promised.

He promptly exited the room and the little brother looked up at the elder seemingly confused. "What's wrong with Sybbie?"

"What's right with her?" Ron scoffed.

"You're being mean," Jake remarked. "Sybbie's still the same Sybbie."

"No she's not," Harry argued. "She's changed... She's made friends with the wrong sort."

"Are you still friends with her?" Harry shrugged. "Am I allowed to be friends with her?"

"If you want to be," Harry sniffed. "But that will change when you get to Hogwarts and understand why he don't like her anymore. It would be the same if Cal or Cas got into Slytherin – _trust_ me."

"No it wouldn't; Cas and I are best friends forever."

"That's what I thought about Sybil," Harry told him. "And now she's... changed. You'll see that at Dinner."

"No I won't," Jake differed.

"You will," Ron agreed.

"No I won't," Jake echoed. "Sybil's still my friend – that's not going to change!"

"Why do you want to keep her as a friend? She's a bad one; she never tried to sort things out with me and Ron."

"Neither did you! Perhaps she's just feeling lonely without you. She might still want to be friends with you – you don't know that!"

"We know more than you," Harry reminded. "Because we're older and smarter. Stop talking about Sybil now, yes? It's bad enough you're talking about her, let alone having dinner with her and having to pretend like nothing's gone on between us. Seriously Jake, _leave it_." Jake scowled at his brother, and with one swift movement of his hand, he knocked the Quidditch board over. He collected the pieces together and put them in his pocket and folded the board. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to play with Dad," Jake informed. "I don't want to play with _you_ anymore."

"Jake don't be such a-"

But Jake had already gone and slammed the door shut behind him.

* * *

At two o'clock the two other families arrived. Remus and Callie arrived first, followed by Sirius, Helena, Sybil and Castor only ten minutes later. The six children split off upstairs like they always did, Helena assisted Lily in the kitchen and the three men sat in the Living Room together, drinking and waiting for Dinner to be ready. This was all very normal for them.

Upstairs, however, the mood was a substantial amount more awkward than it ever had been. The four boys: Ron, Harry, Castor and Jake, sat on the floor of Harry's bedroom while Sybil and Callie sat on his bed, away from the four boys. They were all silent, and it was unnerving.

The two girls: Callie and Sybil though they were extremely good friends, they were very different, and that was evident, even in the clothes that they wore. Sybil was very fashionable and beautiful. Callie was less fashionable and not at all beautiful. Sybil wore a thick red dress, black stockings and flats, while Callie wore a simple denim skirt, green jumper and similar flats. It wasn't a bad fashion choice, Sybil thought, but nothing that _she_ would wear. The boys were not as fashionable as the girls, as they perhaps did not make as much effort _to_ be fashionable. Each of the boys wore long trousers: Castor's were dark green, Jake's were blue and Ron and Harry's were black and similar coloured shirts. Castor's was white, Jake's was Black, Ron wore a maroon sweater and Harry wore a blue shirt with navy jumper.

Eventually, Jake couldn't stand it anymore. "Cas, what did you get for Christmas?"

"Hmh? Oh, nothing much, just some new robes and a couple of books and sweets and money. Can we play with your Quidditch set?"

"Yeah!" Jake exclaimed. "I'll just go get it." He dashed into his bedroom and returned, no more than a minute later, with the set in his arms and threw it on the floor. The four boys set it up, and Jake turned to the two girls. "Are you playing?"

"I don't know how to play," Callie told him.

"We'll teach you," Ron offered.

Callie looked at her friend who was sat on the bed with her. "Will you play?"

"Quidditch is _boring_," she judged. "Even with some silly little pieces. I have _better_ things to be doing with my time than playing with pieces of enchanted metal. You can go ahead and play Callie. I am not interested."

Callie pursed her lips. "I – I don't want you to be left out."

"Honestly Callie I'm fine," Sybil said abruptly. "You go and play your little game. I'll read or something."

"I have a new Charms book," Jake offered. "You can read that."

She smiled down at him. "Thanks Jake." What was surprising was that she was sincere. "If only you were my Brother; you're kind unlike him."

"I'd be kind if you weren't so vile," Castor spat.

"Vile?" Sybil echoed, brushing down her red dress.

"I agree," added Harry.

Sybil laughed. "Thank you, Harry. I like that you think so highly of me. If you want me to leave you might as well say so."

"Don't go," pleaded Jake.

Sybil got up and eyed Jake. "You're lovely, Jake, and like I said, I wish you were my brother, but aren't you a little _young_ for me?" Jake flushed. "You're better off going for Callie or some other girl in your class. Only then might you stand a chance."

Harry rose quickly, while Jake tried to hide himself within the group. "Don't be mean to Jake."

"It's better to be honest than for him to have a broken-heart."

"Just because you're pretty it doesn't mean you're better than everyone," Ron snorted. "Hermione's better than you and she's-"

"-An ugly troll?" Sybil finished. "Honestly, and you complain at _me_ for being friends with different people."

"Why are you being like this?" Callie asked Sybil, standing at her side. "It's Christmas."

"Oh Callie," Sybil patronised. "Callie, Callie, Callie... Everything's going to change so much for you when you get to Hogwarts. You're going to be _so_ much better than my brother and the nuisance sat beside him. When you're in Slytherin, like me, you'll see that these people are-"

"Callie's _nothing_ like you," Castor began. "She's ten times better than what you are!"

"And what _am_ I?"

Castor struggled for an adjective. "Your Father!"

Sybil only laughed at him and pranced to the door. "Maybe so, but you'll change your mind come two years time when you get sorted into Slytherin and see it's the greatest place to be. Merry Christmas to you all, I'm getting out of this place."

She left the room, and Callie – who aspired to be like Sybil in every way possible, ever since she was a little girl – followed after her like she always did. "Where are you going?" Callie asked. "You're – you're not leaving, are you?"

Sybil was half way down the stairs, and turned around. "Don't be a fool, I'm only going downstairs. Come with me if you like; I just can't _bear_ to be in a room with Weasley and Potter and my brother." Callie glanced back up at the bedroom. "Scared you'll be converted to a Death Eater if you don't come with me?"

"No," she said quickly, trotting down the stairs after her friend. "Of course not."

Callie was one step behind Sybil, and Sybil smiled at her. "Good... Now tell me what's happened recently! What happened with you and that Allison Piper bitch? I want to know _all_ the gossip."

* * *

Dinner went surprisingly well in Helena's opinion. The food was cooked to perfection like it always was, Sirius wasn't drunk so early in the afternoon and everyone got along with each other. After Dinner, the children left the table like they always did and Lily charmed the dishes to clean themselves and the two women joined the men in the living room. It wasn't until five o'clock that the day drastically changed. For her, at least.

From coming in from the bathroom, James held a letter in his hand. "Helena, it's for you."

She frowned. "Me?" She repeated. "Pass it here then, please."

James did so and she took it from him. She excused herself from the room to read the letter, and had no idea that the letter – which seemed harmless at the time – would go onto change the fate of everyone in the house's life.

_Dearest Helena,_

_I suppose writing to me skipped your mind, or had you chosen not to pursue it? I cannot blame you if I am entirely honest, for I could not find the time to write to you myself. _

_I'm sure receiving this letter from me is an inconvenience, I am sure, as it is Christmas Day and you no doubt want to spend this time with your family, but I would very much like to hear from you. Is that permitted? I do hope so, as I very much enjoyed your company when you came to visit me at Durmstrang a few weeks ago; I had never seen such a beautiful person walk through my halls._

_Would it be such a bad thing for me to ask you to come visit me on this day? It is forlorn, I admit, sat in my office alone on Christmas Day, and your company would be delightful. If you are busy, do not come, but if you do join me, you can apparate into my office between the time of five o'clock and five past five, I would love to see you._

_Merry Christmas and Kindest Regards,_

_Igor Karkaroff_.

She almost threw the letter in the bin. It was an inconvenience for him to be writing to her on Christmas Day, trying to guilt her into a visit. So why didn't she? She felt sorry for the man, she acknowledged, and knew how lonely she was before she met Sirius and he took her in. Perhaps _one_ visit...

"Is everything alright Hel?" Sirius asked upon entering the room. "You moved in here quite quickly – is something wrong?"

Hastily she folded up the letter and turned her attention to the new arrival. "No – no everything's fine..."

Concerned: "Who was the letter from?"

"An old friend," she lied, waving the letter. "He – She wants me to come and see him – she – her. She feels a bit lonely on Christmas and wonders if it would be such an inconvenience for me to visit her."

"Do you want to go?" Sirius asked, leaning on the table.

She hesitated. "I – I'm not sure. I could only be gone half an hour – that's not so bad, is it?"

"Of course not," he told her, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her on the temple. "Go and visit your lonely friend; I'm sure he/she will like that."

"It's a she," Helena smiled.

He kissed her again. "I love you. Merry Christmas."

"I love you too," she promised and kissed him back. "I'm going to go and grab my coat and bag. I'll be back within the hour. Tell the others where I've gone and the children if they ask."

He promised he would do, and upon fetching her coat, she checked the time – three minutes past five – grabbed her wand and apparated to the Head Master's office.

It was a large, circular, purple room and really rather warm. The roaring fire place was just to the side where she had came out of, and she was faced with one wall dedicated to rows and rows and shelves and shelves of books and magical equipment. It was much larger than Albus' office at Hogwarts, Helena acknowledged, and turned around the room to find Igor's desk, wherever it was.

"I'm here in case you had not located me," came his surly voice from a raised platform.

There he stood, in dark green robes, peering over her. His blue eyes were twinkling at her and awkwardly, she smiled up at him. "Your office is beautiful," she called up to him.

"Not as beautiful as the lady before me." Helena flushed and Igor had disappeared. Within seconds, he was descending down a staircase that Helena had missed on her arrival. He looked quite handsome, she was scared to concede, and wished she had stayed home with the others, now. "I've missed you." She wasn't sure how to respond to that. "Though I suppose the feeling is not mutual."

She swallowed. "Wh – Why would you think that?"

"You have a life to be getting on with; a husband, two children and a job. You have a busy life."

"Yes," she allowed. "I do."

He held up a glass he was holding in one hand filled with amber liquid. "Care for a drink?"

"What is it?" She inquired.

"Troll Gin – don't be put off my its name; it's delicious."

"So I've heard."

She followed him up the stairs so she emerged on another circular, raised platform with more books, more enchanted equipment but this time, a desk and three leather, comfortable looking chairs. However, they did not go and sit on the chairs, instead, he lead her over to a sofa behind his desk where there was also a drinks cabinet.

"It must be a pretty stressful job you have if you need a booze cupboard behind you," Helena noted.

Igor chucked. "It can be at times, yes, but I _never_ drink on the job."

"That makes one of us."

Again, he chuckled. "You are a very witty woman I must note – tell me, you went to Hogwarts?" She nodded. "What house were you?"

"Slytherin."

"I assumed Ravenclaw."

"Then you're the first."

"How so?"

"They assume I'm Gryffindor."

He handed her the drink. "You don't strike me as a Gryffindor, I must say; you have a very Ravenclawish tone about you."

"What's the Durmstrang equivalent to Ravenclaw?"

"We don't have one. We don't have houses based on persona. It's all done erratically." She seemed surprised. "Oh yes. We just choose twenty students from each year for each four houses. Sometimes it is not the perfect match, but other times it fits well. The houses are all named for different legendary people: Agrippa, Merlin, Circe and Archimedes."

"British ones," she remarked.

"Yes; all the best Witches and Wizards come from Britain," smiling, Igor joined Helena on the sofa. "Apart from the Greeks."

"Greeks? Are you from Greece?"

"I am," he confirmed. "My Mother raised me in Greece."

"And your Father?" Igor didn't respond. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," he sighed. "I never met the man – a cruel person my Mother always told me. He took advantage of her because of her beauty and her free will." Silently, Helena sipped her Troll Gin. "You are very beautiful like she."

"Are you comparing my looks to your Mother?" Helena asked coolly. "That is rather inappropriate, I dare say, Mr. Karkaroff."

"You're very alike," he pressed on. "I'm very much like her. She was determined; whenever she set out to do or get something, she always achieved."

"Always?" Helena echoed.

"Indeed," he confirmed, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "And nearly always, I get what I want."

"And what _do_ you want?" Helena teased.

Igor moved his body closer to Helena and the latter neither stopped his advances or encouraged them. Instead, she remained perfectly still. He responded: "I want to kiss you."

"Do you?" She asked. "What makes you think I shall kiss you back?"

"Why else would you be here with me, on Christmas, leaving your family behind you?"

"Pity?"

Softly he chuckled, and put a warm hand to Helena's cheek. Never had she had such intimacy with another man since Sirius, and never had she _imagined _herself having so. It was daring and it was spontaneous, and she liked the thrill that came with this ride.

"I'm going to kiss you now."

"No you're not," she declined. "Because I'm going to kiss _you_."

And kissed him so she did.


	20. Helena's Hoodwinking

They lay in bed together one morning, their fingers entwined, both barely awake but just conscious. Her eyes flickered open and set on the face just inches away from her own. He was not a good man, the man who was leaning over her, or a stunningly gorgeous one of that, but he knew how to respect Helena, which was more than Sirius Black could do. "Happy Valentine's Day, my love."

She smiled at him, remembering and leaned into kiss him, but that was before she fully acknowledged what he had just said. "_Valentine Day_?" Helena repeated in shock.

"Mhm," he moaned, rubbing her back. "I was surprised too how quickly time can pass when you and I are together."

"Valentine's Day..." Helena paused. "It was only Tuesday when I saw you! Damn Sirius is going to want to know where I am! He's going to know something's up... I never miss Valentine's Day... Most exciting day of... The Year..."

She was mumbling the last bits as she looked around the floor for her clothes. "I did not catch that last bit, my Dear, and your clothes are folded on the chair over on the side. I hope you don't mind but I couldn't sleep a wink with clothes scattered on the floor."

Helena knew that was most likely false, and grabbing Igor's dressing gown, she wrapped it round her body and hurried to her clothes. "What time is it?"

"Ten o'clock."

She stopped in despair. "And I'm late for work! Castor was meant to be at school... This is terrible."

"Relax," Igor soothed, also sitting up in bed. "I wrote to Hogwarts proclaiming that you would be going discussing the Tri Wizard Tournament with me, which I also wrote to Black. He wrote back just half an hour ago saying that it was fine with him and the '_lovely'_ man thanked me for informing him."

She dropped her dressing gown and began getting dressed. Sensing his sarcasm, she corrected him. "Sirius _is_ a lovely man."

"So why are you having sex with me?"

She stopped and stared at him. "Now that is a very good question."

He chuckled softly. "I know you want me."

"I do," she agreed. "But I love Sirius."

"If I kill him will you love me?"

"That is not something to joke about Igor," she warned, now pulling on her skirt. "Merlin's beard... Where are my shoes?"

"Why don't you love me?"

"I never said I didn't. I just said that I love Sirius. He's the Father to my two children."

"Biological to Castor, adopted to Sybil."

"But he loves Sybbie as much as he loves Castor, which is an awful lot," Helena said. "Would you love my children if we were together? Would you love them as much as Sirius does?"

"If we had children together I would," Igor told her. "Could you imagine how beautiful our children would be? Our Daughter: with her curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes, running round our home cheerful and without a care in the world? You can't pretend you don't like that idea."

"I do like that idea," Helena said, "but I'm not having any more children. I told Sirius that ten years ago and I don't plan on changing my mind."

"I am quite talented in the art of persuasion," he informed seductively. "You know that better than most."

She rolled her eyes and grabbed her black jacket. "I need to get home and take a shower," she hurried towards him and gave him a long kiss on the lips.

"Can I see you again tonight?" Igor asked once they had broken apart.

"Maybe," said she.

"I hope I can," Igor confessed. "I love you."

He always told her that, but she always guessed he was joking. She gave him a smile that was loving, but it meant nothing to her herself. She just said farewell and left him.

In the shower, however, when she was at home, the steaming hot water running down her back, she began to think about Igor. She was confused by what she was doing; why was she sleeping with him? It wasn't as if Sirius wasn't good enough; he was _great_ and a wonderful man and Father to their children. But what was so appealing about Igor? He was almost twenty years Helena's senior and not at all that attractive. He was smart and he was daring and alluring, but then again, so was Sirius. So what was she doing with her life?

It had always been mundane, but sleeping with a man that had gone to school in the same year as her own Father was not the way to make her life more interesting. But there was nothing she could do about it now; she was in trouble with Igor; it was like she was in a trap that she could never get out of. Igor was the spider and Helena was the fly. The former was calling the shots and taking over Helena's life. She hated what she was doing to Sirius and her children, but it seemed to be the only thing that made sense in her life. She wished to talk about it to someone... But who? Her only friends were mutual with Sirius – more so, in fact. It was terrible, what she was doing – abominable, _diabolical_. She had been on Sirius' side of a cheating relationship and it had killed her. So why would she do such a thing to him? He loved her and cherished her, took her in when she was almost on the streets with a one month old and a four-year-old. Helena was a bitch and Sirius was a saint and this was how she repaid him: by having sex with an ex-Death Eater.

She felt terrible for doing it but couldn't stop. Night after night she snuck out of her home and went to Igor's sleeping chambers. Night after night they had sex and night after night she binged on Igor's love and it went on for months and months and months and it just got worse and worse and worse and then she changed.

She turned cold against everyone. She neglected Sirius and was inattentive at work. Castor – who was once a major aspect in her life – was now a bit on the side like Igor. She began to enjoy her life with Igor more than she did with Sirius and her two children. It was terrible to think so, but to Helena, it just seemed so right, and it took Sirius almost five months to catch on that something was bothering her.

It was over Dinner one night in May. Castor was upstairs doing homework and it was just the two of them finishing Dinner. It was nothing special, but Sirius had gone to the liberty of preparing Dinner for them, so as soon as that was declared she knew Sirius had something on his mind, and he lost no time in pondering what that was.

"You've been pretty absent recently, Helena," he proclaimed. "Is anything the matter?"

"It's just been pretty stressful at work," she lied.

Sceptically: "Really? Because I saw Frankie Chandler in the Ministry the other week and she offered her condolences for us going through a 'stressful time' at home. Hel, if there's something wrong-"

"There's _nothing_ wrong," she answered, a little too hastily. "Can we just drop it, please?"

"No," Sirius decided. "No not really. If there's something wrong you should tell me; I'm your partner and I love you and whatever it is I want to help."

Helena just shook her head and rested her fork on the side of the plate. "It's nothing that you can help with. I'm fine."

"Is it Sybil? Is she worrying you?"

"Why would Sybbie be worrying me? _You're_ the one worrying about _her_."

"Can you blame me?"

"Not all Slytherin's are bad just like not all Gryffindor's are good; do you remember Peter Pettigrew and the bastard _he_ turned out to be?"

Sirius too, put down his cutlery but cleared his throat. "Of course I remember Peter, Helena; he was one of my best friends for seven years and then turned out to be a murderous traitor scum. And don't try and change the subject; I know there is something the matter with you!"

"Just leave it Sirius," Helena demanded a bit harshly.

"I can't," he confessed.

"You're going to have to, and you're going to have to believe me when I say nothing is the matter, and if there was, there is nothing you can do about it! It's none of your concern..."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "So there is something the matter?" No reply, so he reached across the table and put her slender, smooth hand into his. "Please Helena; I just want to know what's troubling you."

She threw his hand away and got up. "I can't take this. You, pestering me about something being the matter. Why can't you just trust me? What do you think is going on? Do you think I'm ill or something – or that I lost my job, or that I'm having an affair? Merlin's sake Sirius, stop acting like a little school boy and just _grow up_!"

"I'M ONLY CONCERNED!" He disclosed.

"WELL STOP! There is _nothing_ the matter so stop being so melodramatic."

"I'm your partner, Helena; it's my job to be melodramatic and concerned when I suspect something is the matter. It's what you got when you took me on."

Glaring at him, she said: "Well maybe I don't want to take you on anymore."

"What does that mean?" He cried.

She just shook her head. "Nothing... I – I'm just going to step outside; need to clear my head."

She slipped out of the hallway and towards the front door. However, there was an obstacle that was on the bottom of the stairs, pausing her in her tracks. That obstacle had a name, and his name was Castor. Helena caught sight of him and almost jumped in alarm, but didn't, because her little boy looked upset.

"Are you and Dad splitting up?"

"Splitting up?" Helena echoed. "No, of course not."

"You just said you didn't want him anymore."

Reassuringly, she smiled at him. She went over to him on the stairs and kissed his temple. "Don't you worry about a thing my precious; Mum and Dad are going to stay together forever. I promise you that."

"And if you do split up?"

"Then I'll fly to the moon," Castor smiled, and she kissed him again. "Don't you worry my Dearest boy; your Dad and I are going to love each other and you to the moon and back, so don't you _ever_ think otherwise."

He nodded. "Okay."

"Good boy," she smiled. "Now go and finish your homework. There's something I have to do and I'll come and help you."

He confirmed that he would finish his homework and darted up the stairs. Sighing and watching him go, she almost regretted sneaking off every night to see Igor, but that would take a lot of guilt to regret her passion with Igor.

She disapparated away from her home and to Igor's chambers. He was not in the bedroom so she hurried through to the Living Room, where he was spotted, in the arm chair, by the fire, reading a novel. He looked shocked to see Helena in his chamber quite so early in the evening, and concerned, closed his book to avert his full attention to the lady. "My Dearest Helena, what is wrong?" Hurrying over to him, she grabbed his face and kissed him hard, but he did not reciprocate the kiss. "Is there something the matter?"

"Why must you men always assume something is the matter?" Helena asked between a kiss. "Why can't I just act a bit differently for once in my life without you accusing me of all sorts?"

This time, he did not allow the lady to kiss him again. "What's happened?"

"Nothing," she shook her head and attempted to kiss him again. "I just want to go away. Take me away – take me on holiday. Today, tomorrow, I don't care, I just need to get away; I want to get away."

"Where?" He asked with a devilish grin. "Where do you want to go? Name it and I'll take you there right now, and I'll book a hotel overlooking the sea, and we can divulge in the greatest pleasures of life."

She moaned pleasurably. "Yes, just take me anywhere. Just get me away from my life."

"Your wish is my command my Dearest," he purred, stroking the back of her head. "Tomorrow, six o'clock, come here and I'll take you away to sunny Greece for the week; I'll show you where I was born and where I was raised and introduce you to the finest culture in all of Europe. Are you ready?"

"Yes!" She laughed, swinging away from Igor and pranced around his armchair. "Take me to Mount Olympus! To the Minotaur's labyrinth and to some vineyards! Just please, _please_ get me away from this everlasting humdrum life."

"I shall," Igor chuckled. "Just so long as you tell me that you love me. And mean it."

She stopped prancing around and turned serious. Leaning against his chair, she brought her warm lips close to his ear. Helena kissed the lobe, and with honesty that she did not expect to have, whispered: "Please take me away, Igor Karkaroff, because I love you. I love you very much."

He moved his head so that Helena's lips now touched his own. "I love you too."

* * *

There was something wrong with Helena; Sirius just knew it. She was distant and quiet and not as romantic as she had been before, and even Castor had caught on that his Mother was not quite her usual self. It pained Sirius that Helena was affecting Castor, now, and all Sirius wanted to do was know what was the dilemma, so that he could somehow fix it.

She had been absent for the week and invented an awful excuse about Durmstrang when she came back after the week. Sirius did not say much on the matter so that he could avoid an argument, but there was no mistaking her tan that covered her body, and there was no getting that from the English sun in June. She was lying about something, and whenever Sirius brought up the topic Helena would act innocent and offended that he would accuse her of such a thing. She was a liar, and Sirius began to resent her for it.

Aside from Castor, he was not the only one who shed this worry, as when he spoke to Lily about it, she had the same theory that something was not quite right with the brunette.

"I do agree, there's something wrong with Helena," Lily mused, stirring her tea around in her mug. "She's been acting a bit... _Off_ recently."

"'Off recently'?" Reiterated the concerned partner. "She hasn't even brought anything for Castor's birthday and it's in _three_ days – I've had to go out and get everything myself. He's turning ten and he wants a huge party with his entire year and he's leaving _me_ to plan it all."

"Us," corrected Lily with a smile. "I'm preparing you the food."

"You're a better Mother to Castor than Helena is."

Lily frowned. "Don't say that; you don't mean it, and Helena dotes on Castor, she's probably just stressed or something."

"Do you think she's having an affair?"

Shocked: "What?"

"Do you think she's having an affair?" Lily was too shocked for words. "I think she is..."

"Why do you think that?" Lily challenged.

"I made a list in my mind," Sirius informed and cleared his throat. "Ever since New Year she's been making excuses to leave home. Since Easter, I've woken up in the morning and she's not in the home. She came home this week with a tan that you can't get from England _or_ Northern Europe for that matter and we haven't had sex in five months."

"_Five months_?" Lily echoed in alarm.

"Five months," Sirius sighed. "And she never even _hints_ as us doing it again – she never offers to kiss me anymore! I feel like I'm the one putting in all the effort and she's just stringing me along. It makes me sick."

"You're probably jumping to conclusions," Lily sighed, putting down her mug.

"Do you doubt me?"

"Yes," replied Lily. "We know Helena – we know she loves you and she could never cheat on you with another man! Have you spoken to her about it?"

"I've tried to, but every time I do she just pushes me away. At first, I thought she was concerned about Sybbie, and then I thought it was work, but Sybbie's fine and I've spoken to a few people on the Governor's Board at Hogwarts and it's been all calm and relaxed for the past six months. I just don't know what to do anymore."

"It does seem like you've tried everything," Lily agreed. "I'll promise you one thing, though: as soon as she's reunited with her little girl, she'll be as good as new."

"That's the thing, even Sybbie's wrote to me saying that Helena's been distant in her letters and that they've shortened an enormous amount, and even Castor knows something's going on and he thinks Helena and I are breaking up and I just don't know what to tell him! All my life, I've tried giving Sybbie and Castor the life I never had: two loving parents who respect you for your life choices, but Helena goes along and does this? I just... I just don't know how much longer I can do this for."

Lily was cautious. "How much longer you can do about what?"

"Pretend like nothing's happened! She's seeing someone Lily, I just know it."

"Do you want me to talk to her?"

"No," said Sirius automatically, "no I can't let her know that I'm concerned; she'll get angry. Don't tell James this, either, please." She was curious as to why Sirius didn't want his best friend knowing his troubles, but agreed not to tell James anyway. "Let's – let's just talk about something else now, please? How's Harry, is he doing Okay at Hogwarts?"

"He's been fine, and there seems to be progress between he and Sybbie according to Minerva McGonagall," Sirius raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I know. They _willingly_ partnered up together in Transfiguration and their work came top of the class. It seems that your Sybbie is top in the class in Transfiguration."

Sirius snorted. "Sybbie hates Transfiguration but she loves Astronomy. She wants to be an Astronomer when she leaves Hogwarts."

"Harry doesn't have a favourite subject though he adores Quidditch."

"Slytherin won the House Cup," Sirius grinned with a laugh. "Sybbie told me she didn't sleep the Saturday night because all the Slytherin's were throwing an all-nighter party in the Common Room."

"The Slytherin's lasted all night?" Sirius nodded. "They last longer than Gryffindor parties; Professor McGonagall always sent us to bed by one o'clock – not that _I_ ever lasted that long, I admit; I was nearly always in bed by eleven even on weekends."

"Sybbie managed it," Sirius laughed fondly. "The Common Room was wrecked, apparently and someone set the sofa on fire."

"The Slytherin's nowadays seem to be wilder than they were fifteen years ago."

"I think all the kids are more rambunctious than we were fifteen years ago. I think we're getting old, Lily."

She scoffed. "Speak for yourself; I'm only thirty-three but have the energy of a seventeen-year-old."

"A seventeen-year-old, I may add, who went to bed at only eleven o'clock."

"I said I went to bed," Lily began. "I never said I want to sleep."

Sirius – who had taken a sip of his drink as Lily spoke, almost spat it out back into his glass. "Lily Potter you saucy Devil. It sounds like seventeen-year-old you and James had a better sex life than present Helena and I do."

"Five words that have never been used as a compliment towards me before," Lily informed. "But no, you need to talk to Helena like grown-ups if you want to get this feud sorted it; it pains me what it's doing to you and kills me what it's doing to Castor."

"I know," admitted Sirius. "But I just don't know what to do anymore."

"Talk to her?" Lily prompted.

"Easier said than done."

The red head smiled at the elder man, and stood up. "It's quarter to three; we have to go and pick up the boys. Do you want to come with me, or are you going home to sort out this bickering between you and Helena?"

"Helena will be out like she always is," Sirius complained, also standing up. "I'll go and pick up my son; one of us has to."

"If you ever need Castor to stay the night don't hesitate to ask; I want you to get this sorted out between you and Helena almost as much as you do because I love and care about you both so much; you're family, and Merlin knows James and I don't have a lot of that."

He smiled over at her. "Thanks Lily. Sorry if I wasted your time."

"You could never waste my time, Sirius," Lily promised. "And Helena is a very lucky woman to have someone as extraordinary as you by her side."

"Pity she can't see that herself," he mumbled in an undertone.

* * *

She was tapping impatiently on the cover of her hard-back book, trying to strain her brain for the answer. Callie knew the answer; it was somewhere in her brain, but she could just not explore her mind enough to discover it. The young girl was feeling tired after four hours of studying, and began spinning around in her Father's office chair.

"Callie stop fooling around," scolded Remus from across the desk. "Come on: five signs of a Werewolf – you should _know_ this – you of all people should. Come on now."

"Number one: he's sitting across the desk from me. Number two: he's asking me really _boring _questions and three: he's my Dad."

"Clever," Remus duly noted, flicking a page in his files.

"I'm bored."

"Do your work."

"You do _your _work."

"I'm trying," Remus replied. "And don't be cheeky."

"It's not my fault Tutor's ill and I'm stuck here with you."

"You used to like it here," Remus recalled.

"Because I used to be able to play with Cedric, but now he's at school like all my other friends."

"Do you want to go back to St. Oliver's?"

"No," said Callie quickly, "but why couldn't I just stay at home alone? I wouldn't have had to wake up so early or get dressed! I could have just read all day or do my homework."

"You can read here and you've already done your homework. I'm sorry Callie but it's only eleven o'clock and I don't leave until five and I have to finish this report. If you want something to do I'm sure the secretary will have some more books for you to read or paper work to do."

Callie sniffed. "Didn't Mum used to be your Secretary?"

Remus stopped his work and cleared his throat. "Yes she did."

"Tell me about her," Callie asked, and put her elbows on Remus desk and stared at him intently. "What was she like?"

"I have work to do," Remus said quietly.

"Tell me about her," Callie echoed. "How did you meet? What was she like?"

"I've told you: we met at work."

Callie – disapproving of that feeble answer – shook her head at her Father. "I want a better story than that. I want a love story like James and Lily or a funny one like Sirius and Helena."

"Don't ask me to tell you the story of how Helena and Sirius met," Remus joked. "Even Castor and Sybbie don't know that one."

"I want to know about you and Mum," said the Daughter, "please Dad – just – just tell me what she was like at work. Did she make you extra coffees and put special flavours in them? Did she buy you cakes and do your filing and work for you? Were you her favourite boss?"

"Of course; she didn't like Amos very much."

"Tell me about her," Callie requested for the fourth time.

Remus was very reluctant to tell Callie about Lydia. For one reason, he was unsure what to tell her and for the second, he rarely spoke about her and avoided the topic when possible. This, however, did not seem likely in Remus' current case, as Callie was adamant in receiving an answer. So he put his quill to the side and massaged his temple.

"Alright, what do you want to know?"

"How did you meet?"

"How did we meet?" Remus echoed. "Here, at work. She was fresh out of Hogwarts and had just turned nineteen, and it was during the time Uncle James and Aunt Lily were in the coma in St. Mungo's. I came for my interview here, your Mum said she recognized me from Hogwarts and we just started talking."

"Did you know you loved her right away?"

"I knew I _liked_ her instantly; she was funny and a very beautiful woman. I was much too nervous to ask her to dinner, and it took me months to gather up the courage to do so."

Callie grinned. "But she said yes."

"I think you're a prime example of the answer," to which Callie cringed. "Sorry."

"Where did you take her to Dinner?"

Remus strained his memory. "Oh I can't remember now; it was almost ten years ago – eleven perhaps. It was your Mum's idea where we went to eat, not mine. If it was my choice it would probably only be the Leaky Cauldron or the Hog's Head."

"How could you not remember? I could _never_ forget if it was me!"

"It was a restaurant near her home," Remus recollected. "I told Uncle James about it about three years ago, he took Lily but it had been converted to a Tesco. It's a shame, really, because the restaurant was lovely but the Tesco is _appalling_."

"What else can you remember about her? Tell me the little things about her."

"She was vegetarian," Remus informed. "Though you know that."

"Because she was a Vegetarian, she died?" Callie clarified.

"Well, it certainly didn't help her health," sighed Remus. "She didn't have enough protein and became diagnosed with Anaemia. You yourself are very lucky to be alive and healthy."

Callie hesitated before she asked her Father the following question. "Did – did you ever hate me because she died and I didn't?"

"What a horrid thing to accuse. No of course I didn't; I loved you from the moment I held you in my arms and saw you for the first time and I've loved you ever since. How could you think I ever did _not_ love you?"

"You might think it was unfair that I lived and she didn't – that she had more of a right to life than me."

"Of course I couldn't think that Callie; you're my Daughter and I love you. Now, enough on this topic; get on with your work because I need to get on with mine."

Remus didn't waste another second, and picked up his quill and continued writing. Callie still had lots of unanswered questions to ask, but she followed her Father's orders and got back to work herself. The thing was, Remus _did_ resent Callie in the first few days of her arrival, and Callie asking him that made him feel even guiltier about it - if that was even possible. He'd hate for Callie to find out the truth, and to think he still felt the same now.

About ten minutes later and Remus had produced very little work, he was distracted by a knock on the door. Callie did not look up from _her_ writing until the person in question had entered the office.

It was a young woman, no older than eighteen or nineteen like Lydia was the first time she and Remus met, and it was quite shocking that Lydia and the girl resembled each other slightly. The girl was short and slim, with light brown, cropped hair and a cheery disposition. Remus had to take a double look to see the woman properly, as the only thought that came through his mind was how similar she and Lydia looked, and it angered him that he thought so.

"Yes – what do you want?" Remus asked abruptly, and even Callie seemed shocked by his rudeness. "I'm sorry – have you got a message for me?"

"James Potter wonders if you're doing anything for lunch today," the girl informed.

"And he couldn't come here to ask me himself?" Remus asked, amused.

"He's busy," the girl reasoned. "Do you have a reply?"

"I'm minding Callie," Remus excused. "Could you tell him that I'll have luncheon with him tomorrow?"

"He says he has something 'urgent' to talk to you about," the girl continued. "And that you have to be 'alone'."

"Alone?" The girl nodded. "I can't – he's going to have to postpone."

"I can go home," Callie said hopefully, "and if it's important like she says..."

"It will have to wait," Remus told the girl. "Sorry."

"We can mind Callie down at the Auror office if you'd like," she offered.

"I'm not too sure about that," replied Remus.

"Oh please let me go Dad," Callie begged brightly, looking at the girl. "Can I really?"

"Of course; I can even take you down to the courtrooms and to the Department of Mysteries if your Dad lets you. I can give you a personal tour of the bottom floor."

Remus was hesitant in accepting the young girl's proposal of taking his Daughter of his hands, but there was no legitimate reason as to why she shouldn't look after Callie for the hour with the other Aurors. She would be safe, as Remus knew a lot of the other Aurors down there from the Order of the Phoenix and school, and he knew that Callie could not be in safer hands of anyone but Aurors themselves. However, he did not know the girl who greatly resembled his late-partner, and he wasn't going to be an irresponsible Father and just hand her over to any person.

"How long have you been an Auror for?" Remus questioned the girl.

"Oh, I'm not an Auror yet," she explained. "I'm training to be one, though, with five other people. I'm halfway through my training and I'm shadowing some of the workers. Mr. Moody's the one _I'm_ shadowing for the week."

"Done anything exciting yet?"

She smiled. "If I answer honestly you'll tell him and he might have a reason to fail me."

"I can't imagine there's much to do in the Auror department that is defined as interesting."

"I don't know," began the girl. "It's fun. I was going to go into Wizarding Law like my cousin, but he warned me against it and said most of it is boring theory work."

"Who's your cousin?"

"Sirius Black."

It was just then that it dawned on Remus who this girl was. "Oh! You're Andromeda and Ted's Daughter: Nymphadora Tonks."

"Just call me Tonks," Tonks advised. "Everyone does."

Remus sat back leisurely in his chair, smiling at the girl. "Tonks... It's been almost fifteen years since I saw you and you were no taller than this!" He gestured how tall it was. "Goodness... I can't believe you're nineteen. I think the last time I saw you had bright pink hair."

On demand, magically, Tonks changed her hair to the aforementioned colour, and Callie's eyes almost burst out of her head. "How can you do that?"

"I'm a Metamorphmagus – needless to say I passed my camouflage and disguise exam with full marks!" Callie still ogled at her. "If you want to come with me I can show you what else I can do with my power." The nine-year-old jumped out of her chair, and Dora extended her hand to gesture for Callie to follow her. "Bye Dad."

"Bye Mr. Lupin," Tonks called as she walked towards the door with Callie. "Oh – what time shall I bring her back?"

Smiling: "Whenever you want, whenever you have to get back to work."

"Will do – bye Mr. Lupin."

"Bye Tonks," Remus said after her, "Callie behave!"

But before the last syllables had escaped out of his mouth, the duo had already left the office.

* * *

"Nymphadora Tonks?" James echoed over his Dinner table. "Yeah she's a great laugh. I went down to find Sirius and bumped into her - when I left her she was showing Callie some of the stuff we do down with the Auror Department with Kingsley Shacklebolt – why, what about Tonks?"

They were at lunch together at a pub near where the Ministry of Magic entrance was located. As Remus cut up some chicken, he confessed to James: "Don't you think she reminds you a bit of Lydia?"

"Not really," James confessed. "Sure, they're both lively and fun – but Tonks and Lyds? I don't really see the resemblance."

"I did as soon as Tonks entered the room – is it crazy that I think like that?"

"No, not really; do you remember when Marlene died; Sirius was senile for _weeks_ and thought that every blonde woman with short hair was her and that she was still alive."

"But he got over that within three weeks when you and Lily were attacked. It's been nine years – ten years, nearly – since Lydia died and I'm having hallucinations that some trainee Auror is my late partner. James, I don't think that's right."

"Maybe," James mused, raising a pint of beer to his lips.

"Did you know she was Sirius' cousin?"

"I remembered her name and then Sirius told me – it's thanks to him she was put on the program, apparently; Moody was cautious of putting someone as 'rambunctious as her' on the course."

"Anyway, speaking of Sirius, have you seen him lately?"

"According to Lily she came round to see her a few days before Castor's birthday, but since then I haven't seen him, no. Have you?"

"No – and have you seen Helena recently? I haven't seen _her_ since April time."

"Since then no, me neither. You would have thought Sirius would mention it to us by now if something was the matter. Perhaps we should say something to him."

"We probably should," agreed the other. "But then say what? Helena could just be busy with work and hasn't had the chance to come and see us. She normally came round to see me and Callie once a week, but that changed since Christmas. How long have you thought something was wrong?"

"Since she was absent at Castor's Birthday."

"That was strange," Remus concurred. "And according to Callie Castor was _devastated_ by it, and Helena said nothing on the topic to him and hasn't even apologised yet."

"Jacob said the same. Merlin though, it must be hard on Sirius, right? First Sybbie gets into Slytherin and befriends Malfoy, and now Helena's acting beyond strange her behaviour is _appalling_. I think we should say something to him, perhaps."

"Like what, and it's not a good idea, James."

"Why isn't it? We're his friends – we should provide support for him."

"What if he doesn't feel the same way? What if Sirius hasn't noticed anything and we start an argument between him and Helena? Or, something really upsetting could be happening and we wouldn't be helping matters by forcing Sirius to speak to us about it! We need to just leave it for now."

Though Remus made a good point, James knew that there was something _greatly_ wrong with Helena – something that she hiding from Sirius, but it was _no_ conjecture any near as bad as the truth.


	21. To End a Year

_"Dear James and Lily, I write to you with drastic matters that acquires you to, immediately, arrive at Hogwarts. Floo to Hogwarts as instantaneously and more information shall be given. Yours Sincerely, Minerva McGonagall._ Well, we're here – Lily and I have arrived as you wished – so would you now, please, _kindly_ tell me what is going on?"

It was late at night when James had received word from McGonagall that they had to get to Hogwarts. Lily was in the middle of putting Jacob and Callie to bed (it was Full Moon and Callie could not be left alone) when the letter was received. Quickly, the anxious parents had to find childcare for the duo (Sirius) and they did as requested and got to Hogwarts as soon as possible. Now there, the parents wanted to know what the matter was.

"You Lily, of all people, know what the Philosopher's Stone is?" Lily replied that she did. "And you James might be aware that Hogwarts, for the past year, has provided it with a safe area for it to be protected?" James replied that he had. "And it has come to our attention, from a letter from Miss. Hermione Granger, that she, your son Harry, and Mr. Ronald Weasley had somehow found a way to penetrate our magical defences and find the Philosopher's Stone."

"That's impossible," James stammered his false belief. "How did he – how did he manage?"

"With the help of Miss. Granger's wildly underestimated knowledge, and Mr. Weasley's chess skills," explained Albus. "Currently, he is resting in the Hospital Wing, but he is unconscious."

"Why is he unconscious?" Came Lily's immediate question.

Albus was hesitant to give an answer: "It has come to my attention, that Harry, Miss. Granger and Mr. Weasley were not the only one's hunting for the Philosopher's Stone that night, but the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, too: Professor Quirinus Quirell, or whom we sought to believe was a Professor, but was in fact, Lord Voldemort."

The last two words uttered were James and Lily's worst nightmare: Lord Voldemort had returned and entered Harry's life once more. Obviously, it took them by surprise and filled them with panging terror, that if Lily had not been standing up, she would have surely collapse on the spot.

"He's back?" James echoed. "How?"

"Whilst in Albania, it seems Quirinus Quirrell stumbled into the path of Lord Voldemort's deformed body, and since then, the latter was living off the back of Quirrell's head, underneath his turban throughout the year, undiscovered."

"What process do you go through to hire Professor's?" James asked, and though it seemed to be a joke, the question was sombre. "Didn't you ever think to ask him if he had Lord Voldemort living on the back of his head?"

"That isn't the style of questions we ask in an interview," Albus informed with a sheepish smile.

"I think you should for now on – what does this mean for Harry, now? Voldemort just tried to kill him so what do we do now? Do we go back into hiding?"

"That won't be necessary," began Albus. "I do not believe that Voldemort will try to achieve power."

"Because you were so right about it before," muttered the Father bitterly. "How could you, of all people, Albus, not realise that Lord Voldemort was growing on the back of someone's head? I thought you were supposed to be the wisest Wizard ever to have existed – HOW DID YOU MISS THIS?"

"James, I understand that you are angry-"

"Angry," panted James, rising out of his seat. "I'm livid."

Lily shot a look at her husband, begging him to be calm. "James – I'm as upset and angry as you but can you _please_ calm down?"

"Lily, Voldemort just tried to kill our son and Albus doesn't even deny that! He doesn't even look guilty."

"Of course I am guilty; it's like you said before: how did I not realise that Lord Voldemort was growing on the back of somebody's head, because normally, that is rather an obvious thing to witness. I apologise for my ignorance on this James, but please do not raise your voice in my office."

"You have to be senile to think that I'm going to not be angry about this. We almost lost Harry once ten years ago, and I sure as hell am not going to lose him again."

"For now you won't; Voldemort is weak, he could not attack again even if he wanted to."

"You said Voldemort was weak," repeated Lily. "How did he survive before?"

"Unicorn blood."

Lily's eyes widened. "That's repulsive."

"It's Voldemort, everything he does is repulsive. But what does this mean for us: for my family – Lily and I, Harry and Jacob? Do we go into hiding again; do we sleep with a knife underneath our pillows and a wand by our side in case the Death Eater's or Voldemort try to kill us again?"

"There will be no need," replied Albus. "And as for now, the stone has been destroyed. Nicholas Flamel and I – the creator of the stone – have had a discussion, and we agreed that it would be for the best. Eventually, he and his wife will die, but for the safety of everyone, they agreed that it is the right thing to do. As for Voldemort, he is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share. He left Quirrell to die; he shows just as little mercy to his followers as his enemies. Nevertheless, while Harry may only have delayed his return to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems a losing battle next time — and if he is delayed again, and again, why, he may never return to power."

"Our Harry, always the saviour of the Wizarding World," commented James.

"You should be proud."

"I will be proud when Harry's life isn't at risk."

"You can explain this all to Harry," Albus ignored. "He gained consciousness in the early hours of this afternoon, and I know that he is desperate to see you, as I am sure, you are. I trust you do not need assistance in finding the Hospital Wing?"

"Of course not, thank you Albus, thank you for saving my son."

Albus looked flushed. "It is my job."

"It's _our_ job," corrected James bluntly, rising back out of his chair. "We're his parents."

"And you've done a superb job. Harry really could not be in any better hands."

James was about to suspect Albus of being sardonic, but Lily thanked Albus for all the help, took James by the arm and escorted him out of the office. Once out, because James could not share his feelings towards Albus _to_ Albus, he expressed them to Lily on the way down to the Hospital Wing. When they arrived, he was quick to shut up.

Harry was already awake when his parent's got to his bedside, but it looked as if he was _barely_ conscious, and had not been so for long. "Where am I?"

"The Hospital Wing," Lily soothed and took Harry's hand in hers.

"How long have I been here?"

"About twelve hours. Professor Dumbledore found you last night. Professor McGonagall sent us a letter to get down here as quickly as possible but it didn't arrive until this evening. Professor Dumbledore says you'd found the Philosopher's Stone and stopped Voldemort from getting it."

"He was living on the back of Professor Quirrell's head," Harry whispered hoarsely, a pang of terror filling him at the sheer thought of Quirrell and Voldemort.

"It's all over now my Darling," Lily whispered, pressing her warm lips against Harry's hand which she had been holding. "You're safe now."

"I'm sorry," Harry croaked.

"Don't be," James dismissed. "You've been very brave but you've been _very_ foolish. You should have spoken to a Professor about this."

"I did, but Professor McGonagall didn't believe me. Are you mad with me?"

"Of course not," James answered with a smile. "You're healthy and safe and that's all we care about."

Harry nodded, his mind at rest. He scanned around his bed and caught sight of various gifts around his bedside table, and on the floor, also. "What's all this?"

"Gifts," James smiled. "Everyone knows about you and Quirrell – it seems you have a lot of admirers now, if you didn't so before."

"You scared us to death," breathed Lily hoarsely, pushing back Harry's dark hair. "You should have told somebody – and you put two other students in danger! Oh Harry, just never do anything like this again, do you understand me? _Never again_."

"Lily leave Harry alone for a while; he's obviously very ill and tired; he needs rest. But we do need to come to an agreement that you _won't_ do something like this again."

"Am I in trouble?"

"Yes," Lily said quickly. "But not with us."

"Then who?"

Lily was torn whether or not to answer her son honestly. He was not in trouble with Lily nor James, but Lily could not pretend that she wasn't disappointed in her son's recklessness. Had he not learned anything from eleven years ago? They had all almost died protecting Harry, and this wasn't the way to ensure his safety. There had to be precautious, Lily knew, but she could not punish him for this; she could not punish him from doing the right, _foolish_ thing.

But he had to be careful. No, he was not in trouble with his parents or by anyone who loved him, but by the enemies he had unwillingly gained: the Death Eater's who stayed loyal to Voldemort. No doubt they would be overwhelmed at their Master's latest defeat and would want to take action. That was who Harry was in trouble by: the Death Eater's seeking revenge.

"No one," Lily lied and planted a kiss on Harry's temple. "Just behave yourself for now on, won't you? Keep your head down and focus on your studies; you have important exams soon, don't you? No doubt you've mistaken your priorities and centred on the stone, but for now on I want to hear nothing but hard work and loyalty from you my Darling – do you understand that?"

Harry sniffed. "Of course."

"How long have you known about the stone?" Asked James.

"Since Christmas," he replied.

"And you never thought to ask us?"

"I did – I asked you about a three-headed-dog but you worried."

"Of course we were going to worry," chuckled James. "We're your parents. You obviously did a very good job in your investigating; you found out _where_ the stone was and how to find it. I never could have done it; I lacked the commitment."

"We thought it was Snape at first," Harry informed. "Because at the Quidditch game my – my broom was hexed and-"

"Your broom was hexed?" Lily gasped. "And they still let you _play_? Who was it? James, did you know about this?"

"No."

"Yes."

Both Harry and Lily stared at James in surprise, and he let out a sigh. "Sirius and I saw Professor Snape in Diagon Alley at Christmas and he told me Harry's broom got hexed."

"And you didn't think to _tell_ me?"

"Sorry, but I thought it was for the best."

Lily shot her head around to Harry. "So Snape was hexing your broom?"

"No, it wasn't Snape. In the end, it was Quirrell who was hexing my broom, and it was Snape who was trying to save me by using a counter-curse."

"Why would he do that?" Lily breathed. "I had to thank him."

"He doesn't want anyone knowing," Harry said hurriedly. "I – I haven't even told him I know. Please Mum, don't say anything to him – and you too Dad, please don't say anything."

Lily seemed reluctant to agree, but did so for her son's sake. James, however, was not as willing to agree, and made an excuse to leave the Hospital Wing (he needed the bathroom) and set on search for Professor Snape. It did not take long to find him; James had barely walked three corridors and he was scolding two Ravenclaw's for using magic in the corridor. All three pairs of eyes turned to James when he appeared, and Snape was quick to dismiss them, and he himself, advanced on James.

"How's the hero?" Snape asked sardonically.

"Safe and sound," replied James.

"For now," added Snape. "What do you want, Potter? I have essays to mark and detentions to hold. Unless it is something important I don't have the time for it."

"I want to thank you for saving Harry at the Quidditch game," James quickly acknowledged. "I know you said it wasn't you, but Quirrell – _Voldemort _– told Harry that it was. I want to thank you for protecting my son."

"I didn't do it for you," Snape snapped.

"I know," was James' reply.

Scowling at James, Snape had to think of a way to revoke James' arrogance. "You know Black made a deal with me when you left; he said that he would owe me any favour if I kept Sybil from trying to discover who her Father is. He told me who it is, and I must say that I thought Helena Rosier had _much_ better taste than that..."

"It wasn't consensual," James informed. "She hated the man."

"Enough to kill him, I assume."

"It was inadvertently done."

"So people say... It's been a hard task to keep her away; she's almost as adamant as your son when it comes to rule-breaking and causing trouble... It's like the 'Marauders' all over again."

James chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "Sirius, Remus and I all have children coming to Hogwarts in two September's. You'll have the honour of teaching the three of them then."

"If I haven't jumped off the Astronomy Tower by then. Is there anything else you want, Potter?"

"Nothing," James replied. "Well, thanks Snape. Have a nice day... Teaching."

"Have a nice time raising a hero," Severus remarked. "I wish you luck."

Snape strolled away, his black robes billowing behind him. "I'm probably going to need it," muttered James, turning on his heel, advancing in the opposite direction than Snape.

* * *

Harry was enjoying his new-found popularity, despite that he started the school year positively despising it. He enjoyed the congratulated remarks from fellow school mates, the claps on the backs and the cheers of confidence. It really made having a broken arm and near-death experience worth it for all this.

There were a few students, however, who were not enjoying Harry's success. It was true to be said, that a majority of the students in Slytherin house were as joyous of Harry's success as some of Harry's friends were, but there were many Slytherin's (Draco, Crabbe and Goyle to name a few) who were not at all celebrating the Dark Lord' defeat.

It was almost a week after Harry had been down and confronted Voldemort that Sybil returned from seeing Harry for the first time. She had been nervous, and sceptical if Harry would forgive her or not, but it was lucky for her that he had.

"Been to see the new celebrity?" Draco mocked from by the window as Sybil walked by. Hearing him, she stopped in her tracks. "How is he? No one's tried to strangle him with a pillow yet, have they?"

"If you want to know how he is, just go down and see him," Sybil advised.

"Why would I want to do that? I couldn't care less if his arm had healed or if it strangled itself with a pillow."

"That's horrible," Sybil noted and diverted towards Draco.

"Why did you even go and see him? You're not friends anymore."

"Professor McGonagall gave me a letter to give to Harry. It's from one of his Muggle friends at home: George Hastings."

Draco cringed. "You were friends with _Muggles_?"

"I wasn't friends with George - I never really had that many friends at our school, actually; nobody thought I fit in. They were scared of me, they steered clear of me." She diverted and fell silent. "What does it matter? I have friends here now."

"It's the holidays soon," Draco reminded and dipped his quill in the black ink he had been writing a letter with. "Won't you come and visit me? It can get deadly boring with only Mother and Father and the House Elves around."

"We don't have House Elves, only the three Muggles from the town who come and work in our gardens. Apart from that Mama enchants the house to clean itself but she normally does the cooking on her own... I'd like to come and see you; it can get boring with only my Brother, and I don't think he likes me."

"Why doesn't he like you?"

"I said some really horrible stuff to him at Christmas," Sybil told him. "Stuff that I didn't mean – stuff that I didn't _want_ to say, but we've never really gotten along, Castor and I; it would only take something small to light a fuse and BANG, we'd be fighting and name calling and hating each other. Normally it would blow over within a week, but it's been seven months and neither of us have wrote to apologise."

"Will Castor be in Slytherin?"

"No way," Sybil almost laughed at the idea. "He's too much like Dad... Still, Castor's none of my concern, not right now anyway. I need to start packing; Pansy's getting frantic at my stuff littering the floors around our beds. I'll see you at Dinner, maybe?"

"I'll save you a seat," Draco said.

* * *

Unsurprising to Sirius, when he, James and Lily went to Platform Nine and Three Quarters to collect their children, Helena was not present. In fact, she had not been present all week, and he was quickly growing tired of it. He had planned what he would say to her, and it had come to the point that – despite how much he loved her, he would give her an ultimatum: she either spent more time at home with him and her children, or she left entirely. It was not work that was the issue, nor was it home, and it left Sirius wondering what on _earth_ was possessing Helena to act so alien. It was not in her nature to be like this; she loved her children and deep down, she loved Sirius too, but now that was almost impossible to see.

No one was more devastated by this than Sybil. As soon as she saw her Father, she rushed over to him and gave him a hug. She missed her Dad and she missed her Mama, so she was shocked why Helena wasn't in attendance.

"Where's Mama?" Sybil asked just as she broke up from her hug with Sirius.

"I don't know," Sirius admitted.

"She's never here," Castor interjected, who had been stood at their Father's side.

"What? Don't lie about that, Castor." Sybil looked at her Dad for reassurance that Castor's remark was not true, but he said nothing. "What's happened?"

"Nothing for you to worry about my Darling," Sirius soothed, stroking Sybil's dark hair.

"She hasn't been home in five days," Castor told. "Don't feel too upset because she's not here to see you Sybbie; she wasn't even at my Birthday party – she didn't even say Happy Birthday to me." Still, Sybil was hoping for her Father to wrong Castor, but he remained silent. With a sensitive look at her little brother; Sybil flung her arms around him. "I'm sorry Sybbie, I hate it when we fight."

"So do I," admitted Sybbie and let go of Castor. She smiled down at him and held him at arm's length. "Well I'm here now, and I have some stuff from Hogwarts for you. I'll show you when we get home – will Mama be home?"

"Of course she will," Sirius lied. "She could never miss you coming home. She loves you."

But from what Sybil had heard from her Brother, she highly suspected that that was untrue.

* * *

For five days Helena had been living in Igor Karkaroff's living chambers unwinding from her life back in Britain. She lay in bed all day, reading magazines and listening to the radio, cooking exquisite meals for her lover and planning to never return home. It was like another word at Durmstrang with Igor, in the beautiful bedrooms, glorious kitchen and living room. She lost track of time, and that was her reason how she missed Sybil going home.

When Igor joined her in the Chamber one Evening, she rushed to his side and shoved some food in his mouth. He chewed it, swallowed it and kissed Helena on the lips. "Good Evening, my Dearest. How was your day?"

"Splendid," she complimented. "What do you think to my cooking?"

"As grand as always," Igor praised. "Did you do anything else apart from cook me delicious meals?"

"I re-organised your book shelf," Helena suggested, wiping her hands down on the black apron she was quickly removing. "How was _your_ day?"

"Challenging; it was the last day of term which you know of course, as your own Daughter is arriving home today." It suddenly struck Helena just how preoccupied she had been while away with Igor. Unexpectedly, she felt a pang of guilt for what she was doing with Igor. How could she have forgotten that her Daughter – whom she had not seen in seven months – was coming home today? Her face fell, and Igor realised what was going on. "You had forgotten, hadn't you?"

"I can't believe it," Helena proclaimed, feeling slightly dizzy and perching on the back of one of Igor's love seats which (on more than one occasion) had provided just that. "I've been so caught up with you that I forgot – how could I forget? I've been anticipating this all month! I need to get home."

"I'll get your coat," Igor offered helpfully, striding back towards the door and fetching Helena's black duffel coat. He dressed her and kissed her on the cheek. "You will come back tonight, won't you my Dearest?"

She felt guilty, so was hesitant to respond. "I think I'm going to stay at home tonight, Igor; I haven't seen Sybbie in months and – and I think I need to spend some quality time with she and Castor. I'll be back soon though, don't fret; I won't forget you."

"Forget me and I'll come and steal you in the night," warned Igor, kissing Helena on the lips. "I trust you, now go back home to your Daughter. No doubt the two of you have been missing each other."

"I have," Helena realised.

"She would be more than welcome to live with us when we get our own house," Igor said.

"I don't think Sirius would be too keen on letting her go."

"She's not his Daughter. I could be a much better Father to Sybil than Black ever could; she could receive a free education at Durmstrang, sleep in the nicest dormitory and receive the greatest education in Europe."

"Knowing Sybbie she won't be too enthusiastic about the idea; she's not a big aficionado of change. She likes to know what she's doing, where's she's doing it at and when she's doing it."

"So do you," Igor purred, and snaked his arms around Helena's waist and planted kisses along her neck. "But you like to be certain about _who_ you're doing."

Helena chuckled, then pushed Igor away. "I really need to get home now. I'll be back soon. I love you."

She swept away to the fireplace and grabbed a handful of floo powder and vanished in a burst of green flames. She promptly arrived in her Living Room, where only Sybil inhabited it. She was reading something off a piece of paper and looked seemingly intent. So intent, in fact, that she had not noticed Helena arrive in the room.

"Hello my Darling," Helena greeted upon arrival. "How have you been?" Sybil didn't glance up from her letter that she was reading and chose to ignore her Mother. Helena was confused, and repeated her question to Sybil as she removed her coat. "Sybil, I'm talking to you."

"Sybil, are talking to someone?" Sirius called from in the kitchen.

Sybil folded up her letter and put it in the pocket of her jeans. She walked away from Helena, who was stuck for words at her Daughter's disregard for her Mother. Cross, Helena followed Sybil into the Kitchen, where Sirius was cooking and Castor was now laughing with Sybil. Both male parties looked aghast at Helena. He difference between Castor and Sirius was Castor's look of upset on his face, where as Sirius just looked disconcerted.

"Oh hello Mum," Castor snarled. "Remembered us now?"

"Don't talk to me like that," scolded Helena, oblivious to what Castor was referring to. "I'm your Mother. Now apologise."

"You're only our Mother when it suits you," Sybil retorted crossing her arms. "You weren't there for me today! Where were you? I looked for you!"

Helena stumbled for words and looked to Sirius for help, but he was clearly on his children's side when it came to this, so Helena had to get out of this one herself. "I've been on a business trip; I wouldn't expect you to understand."

"And your business trip has lasted a month?" Castor questioned, his throat drying up like he was about to cry. "You – You weren't here on my Birthday! You forgot!"

"Of course I didn't forget," Helena dismissed, walking to her little boy. She attempted to hug him, but he ran behind the counter beside Sirius.

"I – I haven't seen you for days, and now you're here when Sybbie's home? You weren't even here for my Birthday, but you're here for Sybbie! But that's alright, because she's your favourite."

"Don't be ridiculous Castor; I love you, come here." She attempted to hug him again, but this time he ran back around the counter, out of the room and up the stairs, leaving Helena watch after him in surprise, feeling not the slightest bit of guilt for her actions. Instead, she looked at Sybbie. "What's his problem?"

"You," Sybil answered, glaring at her Mother. "I don't even want to speak to you anymore. Why did you have to come home – couldn't you stay and shack up with your other man? Here's an idea: you can have a Daughter with him, forbid access to said child and never tell your Daughter about him, meet another man and move on with your life. Now, if you excuse me, I have to go and comfort my crying little Brother, no thanks to your _wicked_ actions."

She barged past Helena, purposely knocking into her shoulder and because of that, Helena stormed after Sybil and grabbed her arm. "Do _not_ treat me in such a way young lady. I am still your Mother, and I deserve your upmost respect!"

"You're only my Mother when it suits you."

"Sybbie..."

Sybil released herself from Helena's grasp and climbed up the stairs. She leered over her. "I hate you," she howled and made as much noise as possible climbing up the stairs.

"You don't mean that!" Helena shouted after her. "You're just upset!" From up the stairs, Sybil gave her Mother a rude gesture. "Sybil Josephine Rosier you come down here and apologise to me right now! I won't take this from you; you're only a child!"

Helena made an attempt to advance up the stairs, but _her_ arm was caught by Sirius. She glared at him with a surprising amount of loathing, and pulled her arm away from Sirius.

"One foot up those stairs to my children and you won't have a home to return to next time," Sirius warned, though it pained him to give her that ultimatum.

"_Our _children," Helena corrected.

"_My_ children; I've been a much better Father to Sybil in these past three hours than you ever had in seven months. Now I suggest you get out of here and clear your head before you say another word to these children."

"What are your problems?" Helena spat, descending down the stairs like she was instructed.

"What are our problems?" Sirius echoed. "You really have the nerve to ask me that? Do you want to know _my_ problems with you, and Sybil and Castor's? Ever since Christmas you've been absent, in mind and body. Around Easter you disappeared for a fucking week, saying you were busy with work, and when I spoke to someone in your office they said you had been infected with Dragon Pox – which I knew was bullshit because you caught it eight years ago. You weren't here for Castor's Birthday, you haven't slept in our bed in three months and never once, in seven months, have you written to Sybbie. I bet you don't even know what's happened with Harry, have you? Well, for you information, Voldemort returned just two fucking weeks ago and tried to kill him. So now I'm going to ask you one more time, and if you don't answer me properly the last steps you take in this house will be out the front door, now tell me: _what are you keeping from me_?"

She didn't think the answer: having an affair, was really all that suitable. Instead, Helena bowed her head, and with all the desperation in the world, she succumbed one word: "Sorry."

"That doesn't even start to begin the shit you've put your son and I through this year."

"I am sorry," Helena informed. "I've been out of order – I – I really have! I shouldn't have left you and Castor, I'm sorry Sirius, I'm so, so sorry. I love you. I thought... I didn't think you loved me anymore, so I went to stay with a cousin all this time and I couldn't return home because I thought you would have replaced me by now and-"

Lies spilled out of her mouth word after word, and with every word, Sirius was made to feel more guiltier. After Helena's dishonest speech, he kissed her in an apology, and she kissed him back. He called Sybil and Castor down and forced them to apologise to their Mother, and they did. By the end of the day, they were a proper family again, and the lucky thing for Helena was, was that she felt no remorse in saying any of this.


	22. Runaway

Helena stayed with her family over the six weeks that Sybil stayed for summer, and she noticed a vast difference in her family pre-Igor and afterwards. It may have had something to do with Sybil and Castor getting along again, or Sirius – out of guilt – paying more attention to Sirius – but whatever it was, it made Helena ignore Igor's letters and gifts and pleads for visits, but within a week of Sybil returning to Hogwarts, Helena was back in Igor's arms and everything was back to how it was pre-Sybil. But six weeks before, life was perfect.

* * *

Harry was blessed that he did not have to wake up at seven o'clock in the morning anymore. He was thrilled that he did not have Quidditch practice in the rain, essays to write (well, he did, but those could be done in the last week), people ogling at him, lessons to attend, charms to perform and Potions to poorly brew. The summer holidays were a time of relaxation, and everyone knew he needed as much of that as possible.

Within the first few days, he woke up at nine o'clock, but after those three or four days, the time turned to eleven. He would wake up at eleven and go to bed at two. Harry was pleased with these bed time schedules, but his Mother Lily, however, was not.

He sauntered downstairs one morning, still in his pyjamas, smelling of odorous breath and morning, hair not even brushed, and sat beside Lily one morning. James was sat across him reading the Daily Prophet, and Jacob was eating some toast. To her eldest son's appearance, Lily gave Harry a dirty look.

"Good afternoon," she acknowledged dryly.

"Hullo," yawned Harry. "It's only ten o'clock."

"Almost the afternoon – when you get in the real world you have to be awake at six o'clock – like me and your Dad – to make sure your children get to school alright, that breakfast is done and bags are packed."

Harry turned to his Mother as he reached past Jacob for the cereal. "Don't you think that after defying the Dark Lord _twice_, that I should be allowed to sleep in? Being a hero and all can be some pretty stressful work."

"Shut up and eat your cornflakes," Lily retorted with a smile. "Have you got any plans today?"

Harry attempted to strain his memory to any letters writing in the night and making plans. Eventually, he thought of one. "Oh, Ron and Hermione are coming round tomorrow – hope you don't mind."

"We haven't met Hermione before," James teased, looking over his glasses and the Daily Prophet at his son. "You talk about her a _lot_ though."

"She's my best friend – Jake, pass the milk?"

Jacob did so, grinning at Harry. "Is Hermione your girlfriend?"

"Don't be silly," Harry snatched the mil off Jacob.

"She's a girl who's a friend, so she's a _girlfriend_."

"Yes, she's a girl who's a friend, but I could never go out with _Hermione_. She's too stuffy and smart and nerdy – she doesn't even like Quidditch all that much! How could I go out with a girl who doesn't like Quidditch?"

"I think I recall describing your Mother like that when I was your age," recollected the teasing Father. "Now see where I am: twenty years later, happily married with two insufferable sons: one who gets into all sorts of trouble, causing so much grief to their parents." To which Harry assumed was him. "And the other denying love for his girlfriend." To which Harry was proved wrong.

"Hermione's not my girlfriend," Harry grumbled, shovelling cornflakes into his mouth.

"So who _is_ your girlfriend?" Cooed Lily, but Harry glared at him. "Come on Harry, don't pretend like there isn't a certain girl in your life; you're a lovely, smart boy – _handsome_ too – and who wouldn't want to have the boy who slayed Voldemort on their arm to bring back to their parents?"

"All of them, seeing as I _don't _have a girlfriend."

"What about Sybbie?" Jacob teased with a smirk not so dissimilar to their Father's.

"What about her?"

"You two would make a good couple," remarked James, pointing at Harry with his fork. "You know everything about each other, so why don't you ask her out?"

"For many reasons," Harry began, swallowing a mouth full of clammy cornflakes. "For starters, she's like my sister. Seconds, she's a Slytherin and I would not get along with _her_ friends and she would not get on with mine. Thirdly, the teasing I'd get from you, four: Uncle Sirius and Aunt Helena would never look at me the safe and fifthly: did I mention that she's like a sister to me? It would be like going on a date with Callie; it could just never work out."

"What's wrong with Callie?" Sniffed Jake.

"Oh, there's nothing _wrong _with her – you can go for it Jake, if you want." Harry was devious in turning _his_ romance life to Jacob, who flushed under his parent's stare. "Now that you've moved on from Sybil, you can sure go onto Callie now."

"I never liked Sybbie," snarled Jacob through gritted teeth. "And – and I don't like Callie like that."

"That's not what I read in your diary."

"I don't have a diary – shut up Harry!"

"Boys," scolded Lily playfully. "Now, leave each other alone. If Jacob likes Sybil _and_ Callie it will be very difficult for him to choose between them because they're both very beautiful and wonderful girls who I would be lucky to call my Daughter-In-Laws."

"I don't like Sybil and Callie!" Jacob whined for the second time. "Sybil probably has a boyfriend, anyway."

"But if she didn't?"

"Harry leave your Brother alone now," James advised cautiously. "Obviously he does not like Sybil _or_ Callie romantically, so you should just leave him alone."

"What about Castor?" Harry hinted suspiciously, raising his eyebrows. Jacob glowered at his brother. "Come on – I don't care; I won't judge. I may _tease_ you if ever get on the Quidditch team and have to shower with the rest of the team, but I wouldn't judge."

"You wouldn't tease either," Lily corrected. "And we'd love you for whoever you are Jacob, you too Harry, if you decide against Hermione and choose Ron or Fred or Seamus."

"Just don't choose the Malfoy boy," James interjected. "Many people died making this world a safer place for you to live in, so please don't go ruining their deaths by marrying into the Death Eater's."

"You should be having that talk with Sybil, not me," Harry advised.

"Meaning?"

Harry shrugged. "Meaning that she's spent a _lot _of time with him recently."

"What like you and Hermione?" Jacob inquired.

"That's enough with you two teasing each other. Harry, when you've finished your cornflakes you can go and clean your room for Ron and Hermione tomorrow. Jacob, I need to take you to buy some new uniform this morning because your other jumper has rips in the elbows, so go and get dressed quickly and we'll get it out of the way."

"Mum, it's only the first week of the Holidays," Jacob complained. "We have _weeks _and _weeks_ to get my uniform – can't we go another time?"

"No, not if you want to wear clothes that are too big for you – now go upstairs and get changed quickly and I'll buy you a sausage roll from the Bakery next door for lunch."

"Don't I get something?" Harry questioned.

"If you tidy your room," answered Lily. "And you clean it so well the three month cobwebs are gone, the clothes are off the floor and folded nicely in your drawers or wardrobe, and there is not a single speck of dust on your dressing table. James, I'll know if you help him, so for your sake: don't even think about it."

James raised his hands. "I promise – will you get me a sausage roll while you're there as well, please?"

"Of course," said Lily, dismissing herself from the table and with a wave of her wand, enchanted the plates and cutlery to clean themselves. "Jacob, dressed and downstairs in ten minutes. Harry, I want your room spotless by the time we get back and James, please go and make sure Sirius and Helena haven't ripped each other's throats out by now, won't you?"

"Of course," James agreed, also getting out of his seat. "Harry, can we trust you to be left on your own for half an hour? Mr. and Mrs. Davis are just next door if you need anything."

"Actually," began Harry. "I was thinking about going to knock for George and see if he wanted to go down to the park or something. George Hastings – my best friend from Primary School, do you remember him?"

"Of course we remember him; he was a nice boy," said James as Lily exited the room with Jacob on her tail. "Go and play out with George and while you're out, I'll enchant your room to clean itself. I don't like the idea of you being at home by yourself, not with what's happened recently; it would be better if you were with George. Just stay out of trouble and keep to where people can see you at all times, please?"

"You're the best," beamed Harry.

"I know," James admitted.

Harry jumped off his chair and headed to the front door. "Say 'Hi' to Sybil, Cas, Uncle Sirius and Aunt Helena for me, won't you? Tell Sybil she can come and join us; we'll be at the park."

"You think Sybil's going to want to join you and _George_ at the park?" James asked.

Harry stopped putting on his jumper and acknowledged what his Father had just questioned. "Probably not... Still ask her though, won't you?"

"I will. Do you want some money to take with you while you're out?"

"No thanks," Harry dismissed, taking a key off the hook near the door and unlocked it. "Bye Dad, love you."

Smiling: "I love you too."

* * *

The Black's house was so vast you'd think that the children who lived there would spread themselves out throughout the house, but it was nearly always the case, that when James arrived at the Black's house, Sybil and Castor would be stretched out in front of the fire, playing a game of some sort, reading or writing. Sybil was writing a letter – or so it appeared – to someone and Castor was playing with Sybil's cat Nancy, teasing it with a shoelace.

When James arrived through the fireplace, Nancy the cat sprinted from the room and Castor looked down-hearted. "Sorry," James apologised when he entered the room. "But it looks like you were winning with her."

"Is Jake with you?"

"Jacob's uniform shopping," James informed, and then looked at the young boy's sister, who had barely taken notice of James' entry. "What time did you wake up this morning then, Sybil?"

"Nine o'clock," Sybil answered, still paying little heed. "Woken up by Nancy."

"I thought you lost her," James remarked confused, stepping over Sybil's body and sat on the sofa. Castor dashed off to find their Father.

"She came back a few days before we were going home," Sybil notified. "She was being looked after by some Hufflepuff apparently, just thought it was a stray... Returned it to me when Draco saw her with him."

"Are you writing to Draco now?" James asked cautiously, recalling what Harry had said no less than an hour ago.

"No, Blaise."

"Blaise who?"

"Blaise Zabini."

"Is he your boyfriend?"

Sybil looked up at James rather threateningly, and adamantly told him: "_No_."

"She's not allowed a boyfriend until she's thirty," came Sirius' voice, joining the Godfather of Sybil and the latter. "So she better not be seeing any behind me back."

"My Father: the joker," Sybil responded and sat up, folding the letter in half. "Where's the owl?"

"I've used him," Sirius informed. "And your Mama's used yours."

Sybil scowled. "But this needs to be sent!"

"It can wait a few hours. Just put it on the side and I'll send it when one of them returns," Sybil was reluctant to, so set it on the side of the chair that she sat in. It wasn't often Sybil would remain present in the room if there was a visitor, but she did this time, whether or not it was for the sacredly of the letter, Sirius did not know, but he knew he was pleased of Sybil's company.

"Where is Mama?" Sybil inquired.

"At work," Sirius replied.

"Is she?" Sybil suspected.

"Yes," Sirius answered with a glance at Sybil as if telling her to be silent while James was in the room, though it was obvious he had realised what was going on. "She's with Igor Karkaroff – he came to pick her up to discuss certain work stuff."

"What work stuff?"

Sirius smirked. "'Confidentiality my dearest' as Igor said – he's a good man, actually; he said you could borrow some of his books on Astronomy if you'd like. Hey James, Sybbie got the highest marks in Astronomy in her class for her exams!"

"But I got the lowest in Defense Against the Dark Arts," she included.

"Well, the Professor didn't turn out to be any good, did he?" Sirius said. "There was only a slight problem with Lord Voldemort growing on the back of his head,"

She supposed so, and made an excuse to leave. Once she had gone and closed the door behind her (like Sirius asked) his eyes crossed over to the letter Sybil had left in his guard. As soon as he looked, James knew Sirius' plan.

"Mate, do you really need another excuse for her to hate you?" Questioned the brunette with the circular spectacles. "You really don't want her to find out that you read her letter to a friend, who is a boy, in Slytherin, do you? This would really push her over the edge and it's only the first week in the Holidays. Five weeks of slamming doors and cursed tones – could you really take that from her?"

"No," Sirius admitted and averted his gaze from Sybil's letter to James. "Who's it to?"

"Blaise Zabini."

Sirius frowned. "I recognize that name."

"Probably because you stuck it to his Mother in fifth year," James remarked.

"Probably, but even then you can't expect me to remember her _name_," James did not look best pleased. "I'm only joking."

* * *

When Sybil left the room, she did not go straight up to her bedroom like she told her Father; instead, she walked to the front door. As quickly and quietly as she could, she took the keys off the hook and put it in the hole. Then she put the keys back and slipped out the door, and – not risking getting caught – ran down the street.

She turned the corner and doubled over, panting. _I'm unfit_, she thought to herself as her breath became heavier, _I'll have to stop eating so much_. But then she thought about the delights of cakes and chocolate that the Muggle and Wizarding World had to offer, and then that idea slipped her mind.

Much slower than previously, she walked down the streets of London. She passed very view people and had to take the longer route as to avoid walking past the Potter's or Lupin's. Eventually she found herself at the Leaky Cauldron after almost half an hour, and she pushed open the door.

The pub was bustling with people of all different ages. Gabbles of giggling girls sat in corner booths gossiping to one another with their shopping bags. Boys and men alike were arguing and complaining over the Quidditch Championship winner (Tornadoes by ninety points) and on one side of the bar were Lily, Remus, Callie and Jake, and unfortunately for Sybil, they had spotted her.

She had no other choice than to go over to them. She climbed on a stool and joined them at the higher table, and they greeted her warmly.

"Do your Mama and Dad know you're here?" Remus asked Sybil almost instantly when she joined them.

Tediously: "Mama's working and Dad's talking to Uncle James."

"But do they know you're here?" Remus repeated.

"Yes," she lied, but they were sceptical.

Nonetheless, Lily nor Remus pressed on. "Can I buy you a drink?" Lily offered, reaching down for her bag.

"Thank you, but no thank you. I'm meeting some friends."

Remus and Lily exchanged looks. "So your Dad _definitely_ doesn't know you're here?"

Smiling sheepishly, Sybil said: "Please don't tell him."

"We can't not, really," Lily soothed. "You sneak out the house and you think we shouldn't tell him? What if something happens to you? Your Dad would go ballistic if we let that happen."

"Then come with me!" Sybil offered in a desperate plea of hope.

"Go shopping with a bunch of twelve-year-old girls? No thank you," said Remus.

"Not _just_ girls."

"You say you don't want us to tell your Dad, but you go on and tell us you're meeting boys as well?" Lily stated with a laugh. "Come on, we're taking you home."

"Oh come _on_," Sybil relented, getting slightly annoyed with her Aunt. "We can sit in here – you can watch us! We won't be any trouble."

"_No_," said Lily sternly. "We're going home anyway and Jacob and I will walk you home."

This was aggravating Sybil now; didn't they _trust_ her? She got off her stool, and the four pair of eyes watched her, shocked. "No you will not! I'm not a baby."

"Sybil, where do you think you're going?" Remus began when Sybil turned her back on them. Sybil stomped off towards the back door, and Remus got off his chair too. Seeing that, Sybil broke out into a sprint and burst out the back door. "SYBIL!" He shouted after her, with a glance back at Lily, his Daughter and Jacob, he called back: "Take Callie home; I'll go and get Sybil."

Lily said she would and Remus pushed open the back door, and saw to his dismay, the brick wall closing before him and Sybil running down Diagon Alley. The werewolf got out his wand and tapped the correct bricks, but that had taken him a few minutes, and by then, Sybil had vanished.

Unbeknownst to him, he had walked past Sybil a few times. She was crouched behind a sign advertising Borgin and Burkes' sale: _MOST ITEMS 10% OFF _and she could see him and passersby's through the handle. There were times when Remus looked tempted to search down Knockturn Alley where Sybil was hiding, and every time she took a sharp intake of breath, ready to knock down the sign and run, but he always looked back and never dared go in.

After a long while (or so it seemed like to the adolescence) Sybil dared standing up. She glanced around the abandoned Alley and thought to herself that this was not as bad as she ever thought. Tentatively, she edged further into the Alley, and when she turned a corner, she saw more people. None she recognised, a lot of them old Witches and Wizards, and they paid no heed to her when she walked by, apart from one old man who was selling enchanted (or cursed) trinkets.

"Where you going my Dear?" Came the man's hoarse voice – a voice he had probably earned from drinking for the majority of his life. "Not lost, are ya?"

"Just looking," she replied.

"First time down Knockturn Alley? How old are ya my precious?"

She cleared her throat. "S-Seventeen."

It was an unconvincing lie, but the man who had questioned her seemed too drunk to realise. "Ah, you ought to be careful while you're down here my girl; a lot of strange creatures you'll find 'ere. If any o' them give you grief, just send them to me and I'll knock some sense into 'em. They know not to go round has'ling pretty gals like yourself. There may be some roughens down here my love, but I assure you, we know how to treat a girl with respect!"

She smiled meekly at him. "Th-Thank you."

"Now come 'ere and lemme 'ave a look at ya," Sybil did not do as instructed, but the old man continued even so. "If you need _anything_, and I mean _anything_," he added with a suggestive wink. "You come and speak to old Jimmy-"

"-Fowler!"

Sybil spun on her heel, surprised by the loud voice behind her but saw it was none other than Draco who was marching towards Sybil and old Jimmy Fowler. Upon Draco's arrival, Jimmy drew in on himself, as if threatened by the boy who was only twelve.

"What are you doing round here, pestering this girl? Get lost – she's not interested in any of your trinkets!"

As if trying to ease the tension, Fowler said: "I think she was interested in _one_ of my trinkets, Master Malfoy..." With an angered, wild blow, Draco knocked over Fowler's wooden cart. Sybil yelped and jumped back, and Fowler looked ready to lynch Draco – which he attempted to do. He threw himself at Draco, but with one almighty kick in the shoulder, Draco knocked him back and Fowler went into a slumber. "Come on," Draco said gruffly, taking hold of Sybil's arm and walking her down the street. "You need to get out of here."

They turned a bend – Sybil and Draco almost running down the street, Draco in the lead dragging Sybil like a disobedient dog. He threw open the door and through her in the room, closing the door behind her and putting the _CLOSED _sign on. "What are you doing here?" Draco demanded once inside.

The shop was quite an odd one with decorations Sybil had never seen before. There was a humongous cabinet, creatures in cages on the ceiling, a severed hand and a few legs, a brain floating in the jar, jewellery and numerous other bits and bobs clattering the shop. Sybil barely heard Draco as she was looking around in fascination.

"I'm supposed to be meeting Blaise and Daphne and Nott, but I wasn't allowed. I hid, and I ended up in this dump."

"I know you're meeting them; Blaise wrote to me and told me, asked me if I wanted to join but I said I was busy, which I am with my Father. He's upstairs with Borgin himself. Why did you come to Knockturn Alley? Why not run into a shop?"

"I didn't think anyone would look for me here."

"You're right, because no one like you in their sane minds would come here! This isn't for people like _you_, Sybil, it's for people who are trained for dark magic and encounters like you had with Fowler! If I hadn't come along, I don't know what would have even happened to you."

She felt just as agitated with the blonde boy as she had with Lily. "I can take care of myself!"

"Clearly," he said dryly.

She crossed her arms. "Don't you think I can handle myself in Knockturn Alley?"

"No," Draco replied honestly. "No I don't think you can."

Sybil felt cold, and wrapped her arms around herself not so dissimilar as to how Fowler was earlier. "I'm a Slytherin and I can look after myself."

"I think more than a hat's decision is going to need to prepare you for the horrors down Knockturn Alley and the real world. Come on, I'm taking you back to Diagon Alley."

"I can't go back," Sybil said rushed, blocking Draco's way to the door. "Can't I stay with you and your Dad?"

"I don't think that's the best of ideas, Sybil. Look, just go home before you get yourself into anymore trouble."

"I can't go home! Not now! This has been the only time I've been free all Holiday!"

"Sybil it's been less than a week-"

"-And now I'm finally with one of my friends! You 'saved' me from Jimmy Fowler, so you can show me round Knockturn Alley and prepare me for the 'horrors down Knockturn Alley and the real world'! Come on Draco; I want to see new stuff! I want to be a new person – someone like you."

Draco eyed the young girl and eventually relented. "Fine."

"I want to be like you," she admitted. "I want to know the things you do – I want to treated and behave as a Pureblood like you. Come on Draco: teach me how to be like you."

He was very reluctant to do so, but agreed. He did, however, have some terms of his own: "You stay by my side, you do exactly what I say and you do not talk to anyone other than me unless I give you permission. I'm going to go and tell Father that I'm taking you out, and while I'm gone, try not and let yourself get thrown in St. Mungo's. Rule number one of Borgin and Burke's: _don't touch anything_."

She nodded enthusiastically and swung on her heels for five minutes, anticipating her tour with Draco. He came downstairs with two dark jackets. He instructed her to put her's on and fasten it up and do up the good as if they were _hiding_ from someone or something, and when Sybil questioned this, Draco said it was only precautionary – something she didn't buy.

* * *

When Sybil returned home it was nine o'clock, but she had had one of the best days of her life. Draco showed her everyone and everything in Knockturn Alley and took her back to his Manor via floo powder and showed her around there. It was an amazing house with Italian marble floors, grand portraits of ancestors hanging up on the wall and white mineral pillars elsewhere. Every room was grand and spectacular she didn't want to go home. They had dinner with Draco's parents and then she was forced to go home. Draco's Father – who Draco resembled like Castor resembled Sirius – apparated with her home and left her on the doorstep, to which, when she walked in, was first greeted by Castor who was sat on the stairs, not looking best pleased with his sister.

"Ooh," began Castor. "You're in trouble."

Sybil wasn't at all surprised; it was nine o'clock and she had been gone for almost eleven hours. "Shouldn't you be in bed?" She asked her Brother.

"Shouldn't you have stayed at home all day?" Castor questioned and jumped off the stairs.

"Who's at home?" Sybil asked, starting to whisper.

"Uncle James," Castor replied. "They've been looking for you _all_ day. Uncle Remus has searched every shop in Diagon Alley and Aunt Lily searched Hogsmede. Dad went to your friend Blaise's house-"

"He did _what_?" Sybil interrupted, feeling hot and angered. "He went to Blaise's house?"

"He started looking for you too; he was worried that you didn't meet him and the others... Then they all started looking for you at Diagon Alley and the other's houses. Then Uncle James and Dad went looking round all of Muggle London, but that was eight hours ago, and Uncle James has stayed at home with Jake, me and Callie – who are upstairs by the way. Dad's really scared, you know."

None of this fazed Sybil; she just glanced absent mindly around the room. "And where's Mama?"

"She's out looking for you too with Igor Karkaroff."

Sybil cringed. "That man is odious."

Castor ignored and walked past his sister into the Living Room, and within a matter of seconds, James rushed out, and upon seeing Sybil, looked as if he could lynch her. "Where in Merlin's name have you been?" To her surprise he hugged her, but then pushed back, returning to look threateningly at her. "Did you know we've been searching for you for almost twelve hours? Where on _Earth _have you been? You've had your Mother crying and the rest of us tearing up London and the Wizarding World trying to find you... Get in the Living Room _now_."

Perhaps Sybil would have complied if she had not spent the day with the Malfoy's who, in her opinion, were a better family than her own. Instead she made herself as tall as she could and stood her ground. "No."

"No?" James echoed aghast. "Sybil, we've been searching the _entire_ Wizarding World looking for you – so I suggest you get in that Living Room now and you face your consequences."

"I said _no_. You don't live here – get out."

James started to laugh, but Sybil felt completely opposite to James. "Get in the Living Room now or you'll be in more trouble than you already are. Your Dad will be here any minute, and he will _not_ take this lying down."

Sybil merely shrugged and turned her back on James. She swung open the door and turned to James. "Oh fuck off."

He was shocked that she would speak to him in such a way, and even her brother looked surprised. Probably due to the raised voices, Callie and Jacob joined the scene, but watched from upstairs. "What did you just say to me? Sybil you get in here right now or-"

But his sentence was cut off by Sybil slamming the door in his face. She knew how to hide, so instead of sprinting down the street where she would easily be seen, she ran round the corner of the house and pressed her back against the cold, brick wall. She waited with baited breath like she had done with Remus when James got out the house. He searched around the street and walked out onto it. With every step James took, Sybil took one in the opposite direction towards the back garden. It would be impossible for her to get any further without opening the gate, so she waited until James was completely out of view and dared open the back gate. It opened with a creak and slipped out of it was quickly as possible. She ran through the back garden – and considering their back garden was three acres, it took her a long time to do so.

Catching sight of James when she got down to the bottom, she hid herself in the shrubbery, far back so he couldn't hear her heavy breathing. Minutes after he left the street, she climbed through the bushes – gaining multiple scratches and drawing blood as she did so – and onto the cold street. She wished she still had Draco's jacket or one of her own, and the only way – she figured – to keep warm would be to move faster, so she began jogging through the streets, not knowing where the night would take her and who and _what_ she would encounter.

She had no money, no spare change of clothes and nothing to eat. Sybil wanted to return home, but she couldn't give up that easily. She stopped running when she reached a Muggle bus stop and sat down on the bench inside. The young girl began to cry, but unlike at home, there was no one to comfort her. She missed that – she wanted to go home and be in her parent's loving embrace, but she had treated them so badly.

She had left them worried for almost an entire day – she hadn't even seen her Mama for the whole day. So badly she wanted to turn back the time and return to the time she left home or ran from Remus. She never should have done so; she should never have treated them so badly. Her actions were unforgivable, and she didn't even know why she did it.

Why had she done it? That was the question flooding Sybil's mind. She had started the Holidays with a bad start and now she was just continuing that. Her parents would hate her now, she was sure of it. They could never love her; she let them down. She wasn't talking about today, she was talking about last year and when the hat had sorted her into Slytherin. Since then, she had disgraced her family beyond belief and disappointed them.

It would have been so much easier if she was in Gryffindor, where the worst thing to happen to her was saving the Wizarding World with Harry. They would still be best friends and Sybil wouldn't be getting roped into this Dark Magic Draco had been showing her. She would perhaps have a lighter outlook on life if her friends were Harry, Ron or even Hermione _bloody_ Granger. Then perhaps, she wouldn't be chasing a boy who could never love her back.

The only reason she skipped home was to meet Blaise. All she wanted was to see his face and make him happy. He had been bored all summer and said he wanted nothing more than to see Sybil and make him so. He'd made her feel special, but now he'd (unintentionally, of course, Blaise could never do this to her) made her parents hate her. If she'd actually met Blaise like planned, it would be worth it, but instead she was with Draco, who was nothing more than a friend and never _would_ be.

Sybil drew in on herself, her teeth chattering, rocking backwards and forwards on the bench. The tears blinded her and she began howling. She wanted to go home, she so _badly_ wanted to go home, but she knew what would be awaiting her: her parents, Remus and the Potter's. All so ashamed of her, this was something they couldn't forget. All this just made her sobs harsher, hoarser, longer and louder.

And this was when Sybil Rosier realised that she had to change.

She blinked back tears and cleared her throat. She stared straight ahead past the cars in the dark to the houses opposite her. As she stood up she was shaking and her breathing was still heavy from running and crying. Now she felt sick, but despite that she endeavoured back to her house and took the twenty minute walk back.

When her house was in sight and she was just stood opposite, it took everything in her power to walk up that pathway to the place she – in her opinion – was treated unjustly. So she walked up that path, shaking and still feeling sick and was fortunate that the door was unlocked.

As if an alarm had gone off, her Mama and Dad ran to the door. Helena looked as if she was going to burst into tears when she saw Sybil, and raced to her. Like James had initially done, she embraced Sybil, but what was new to Sybil, that James had not done, when Helena drew back she slapped Sybil.

Sybil was horrified, and staggered back into the door – closing it as she did so – clutching her cheek. It was red raw and Sybil felt tears prickling her eyes. She looked up to her Mother, and it took everything Sybil had in her not to slap her back or storm back out that door – but the only force was Sirius, who made haste to lock the door behind Sybil, looking as horrified as his Daughter, but saying nothing.

"WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?" Helena Rosier screamed at her Daughter, her face going the familiar red that it always did when she was angry. "WE'VE BEEN OUT SEARCHING FOR YOU FOR TWELVE HOURS! WE SENT REPORTS TO THE AURORS BECAUSE WE THOUGHT SOMETHING HAD HAPPENED TO YOU, YOU STUPID, _STUPID _GIRL!"

Sybil said nothing, and was still struggling to realise that her Mama had just slapped her. "Sybbie," said Sirius sterner than he ever had been before, though he was a lot calmer than his partner. "Answer your Mama."

"I'm not Sybbie anymore," Sybil stammered, attempting to regain her posture and stand up straight, but it was hard when she feel sick to her stomach and still getting over the initial shock of her Mama slapping her. "I'm not an infant anymore. I'm Sybil. Sybil Josephine Rosier and I think it's time you started to treat me like an adult and _not_ an infant."

"You're only twelve," Sirius remarked. "And after today's antics you're acting like an infant. But at least you're home and you're safe, that's all that concerns me."

Helena looked at Sirius with great disgust. "That's all? She gets a slap on the hand and that's it? No, no, no, not after what you've put us through. You wasted James and Lily's day off and you made Remus and I leave work to go searching for you – do you know how _embarrassing_ this was for your Father and I? The pitying look from the others, and how tormenting it was for me in front of Igor? We're trying to settle a deal with him young Lady, and if you've ruined it for Hogwarts then you'll get more than a slap round the face from me and the board. I'm sure to lose my job after this if Lucius Malfoy ever finds out," Helena vented.

Sirius put his hand on Helena's shoulder. "Don't worry; you won't lose your job over this; Malfoy won't ever find out."

This was Sybil's chance to get the slightest bit of vengeance over her Mother for slapping her, and arrogantly, Sybil declared: "I think Lucius Malfoy might already know, considering I had dinner with him and Narcissa last night." The look on her parent's faces was priceless. Helena looked ready to slap Sybil again, and Sirius was aghast. She smirked and said to them: "Oh _yeah_, I had a lovely day with Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy; they're so kind and considerate... Unlike you, Mama, who slaps their Daughter after they spend time with their friend."

"You ungrateful swine," Helena said quietly, "we've given you everything: a home, nice clothes, a decent education, something someone like Callie would _kill_ to have; Remus wouldn't be able to afford an entire new set of clothes _just_ for Hogwarts, would he? We take you on nice outings and we love and cherish you; you have two parents who love and care for you dearly."

"_One_ loving parent," Sybil corrected. Sirius suspected this was about her Father again, and he knew that all this could be avoided if Helena _just told her_ who her Father is. "And that's Dad; he never hits me and he never raises his voice to me!"

"Because he's too soft on you which is going to change. You, young lady, are going to floo to Remus and James' home right now and apologise to your actions! No, I don't care if it's too late at night they deserve an apology from you or you're not leaving your room for the entire summer," Sybil looked heartbroken. "Don't think you're leaving the house though; I can't trust you to be on your own – not after tonight. I was never like this at your age; I was studious and I did my homework and I-"

"-Continue telling bullshit."

Helena straightened herself up. "I don't have to justify myself to you; I'm the Mother and _you're_ the child and right now you're treading on very thin ice young lady. I don't think you should go back to Hogwarts this year."

That caught Sybil off guard, and if there was one thing Sybil was bothered about in this whole confrontation, it was this. "NO!" Sybil screamed. "NO YOU CAN'T DO THAT!"

"Igor already offered you a place at Durmstrang; it's very nice and it is filled with _very nice _people-"

"-I'M NOT GOING TO DURMSTRANG!" Sybil screamed, barging past her Mother and Father and standing on the first step. She slammed her foot down and crossed her arms. "YOU CAN'T MAKE ME."

"This is a bit extreme," agreed Sirius calmly. "We should just talk about this-"

"-DAD PLEASE DON'T MAKE ME GO TO DURMSTRANG! PLEASE!" Sybil begged. "IT'S NOT _FAIR_!"

"And you think dragging us out searching for you for countless hours is?" Helena questioned. "Get to your room now and don't even think about coming down until you're ready to apologise."

Sybil turned on Sirius now, and started to scream at him. "HOW CAN YOU JUST FORGIVE HER LIKE THIS? SHE ABANDONED YOU AND CAS FOR SEVEN MONTHS AND YOU JUST FORGIVE HER, WELCOME HER HOME WITH OPEN ARMS LIKE NOTHING'S HAPPENED! I BET SHE WISHED I WAS AWAY FOR LONGER SO SHE COULD HAVE SPENT SOME MORE TIME WITH HER MYSTERY LOVER – I WOULDN'T BE SURPRISED IF SHE WAS BUMMING IGOR _FUCKING_ KARKAROFF IN AN ALLEYWAY WHILE YOU WERE OUT LOOKING FOR ME." Helena went to slap Sybil again, but she ran up the stairs, making as much noise as she could. Once at the top, she turned down to her parents, who were staring up at her. "I HATE YOU," screamed the teenage girl. "I HATE YOU AND YOU CAN'T MAKE ME GO TO DURMSTRANG!"

"Sybil come back down here; we haven't finished talking," said Sirius.

But Sybil stormed away into her bedroom. She slammed the door behind her and aimed a kick at the door. Without a lock on her door, Helena and Sirius could get into her bedroom, so as far as she could, she dragged her chest of drawers, guarding the door to stop them from getting in. Then, she jumped onto her bed, lay face down and began to sob furiously into her pillow.

Actually, _this _was the moment when Sybil Rosier decided she had to change.


	23. What Lucius Said

Callie was lying down on Jacob's bed, staring up at the slightly cracked ceiling. She was in her own world, lost in her thoughts just as she usually was. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe – a book she had read countless times, lay by her side, opened at the seventh chapter. There was a main fact about Callie that people could never overlook: Callie Lupin loved to read. Most girls spent their money on clothes, but Callie spent her little pocket money on books.

Her shelves were lined with different novels, all alphabetically arranged, (arranged due to tedium) different genres, different authors and different plots. She loved books ever so much and could escape into a world that was much better than her own. A world with two loving parents. A world where life wasn't a struggle. A life when the protagonist's Father wasn't ill once a month due to an unfortunate accident.

That was what she was thinking about. It was Full Moon, and she was worried for her Father's safety. He hadn't slept in five days, he was growing agitated and Callie could have sworn – as well as he hid it – his self-attacks were getting worse. It was horrible he had to suffer like this, and it was horrible that it was all Callie could think about it.

"Remember at St. Oliver's, when every year our teacher would ask us to write down what we wanted to be when we were older, and the two of us had to lie because we wanted magical jobs, but I could never figure out what I wanted to do? Well, I have now: when I grow up, I'm going to discover the cure for Lycanthropy," the young girl proclaimed on the morning she was still lying in bed.

Jacob was sat in the chair beside her, reading one of her other books. It was a basic one, but it was also one of Callie's favourites. Jacob looked up when Callie finally spoke. "You're better off going for a job you can actually get... Like a librarian or a Professor or something."

She rolled off the bed and sat upright. "I've seen what it does to my Dad and it's awful - and that's _with_ the Wolfsbane Potion. He's raised me on his own my entire life... This is the least I can do for him."

"Callie, he'll be dead before you – or _anyone _can discover a cure for it."

She looked down-hearted, but she agreed with Jacob. "I know; it's never going to happen."

"I never said it _wouldn't_ happen, just not for a long, long time."

"But the Muggles can do all sorts of stuff with medicine now. What if we used some stuff from Science laboratories and introduced it into the Wizarding World? Then I really, really believe we can make a difference to people like Dad."

"Before you do that I'll be dead, and so will you. You'll live longer than me though, Callie; I'm foolish and silly, where as you're smart and brave and..." He trailed off when Callie zoned out and walked across the room. In an undertone, he added: "And perfect."

"I probably will live longer than you," Callie agreed with a smile over at Jacob. "You'll probably get yourself killed with some stupid prank you pull." This made Jacob laugh, and he bounded over to where Callie stood by the window. "I'll be leaving Dad next year to go to Hogwarts. Is it _wrong_ I'm looking forward to leaving my Dad?"

"No," said Jacob, "maybe a little."

"I hate feeling guilty for this."

"What have you to feel guilty about?"

Callie was silent for several moments before she spoke. "I've seen the way he looks at me, and the way he behaves when it's my birthday. I know he misses Mum. I know he wants her back."

"He loves you," Jacob reasoned. "He doesn't wish you dead and her still alive."

"I never said that," Callie said quickly, turning her back on the window. She leant against the windowsill. "Only that I can't wait to leave London and go to Hogwarts and start a new life. I can't be like I was at St. Oliver's; it was the reason I left. I have to stop being so much like Callie and be more like Allison Piper, I need to change my ways."

"You don't want to be like Allison," Jacob reminded.

"Maybe I do," she countered. "Maybe that's the reason why I pushed her, because I'm jealous of her life. She's pretty and she's rich and she has _two_ parents, everything that I'm not."

"You're much prettier than Allison," Jacob informed, and it surprised him how close to the truth that was.

Callie glanced and gave him a smile. "Thanks Jake; you're sweet."

"It's nice you think that," said Jacob, but Callie missed the sarcasm in his voice, "we're best friends, I-I have to be nice to you."

She stopped and looked at him, as though amazed by what he had just said. "We're best friends?"

"Well yeah," he said quickly, "what else would we be?"

"I-I don't know," she admitted, slightly embarrassed. "I just thought you and Castor were best friends."

He laughed. "You can have more than _one_ best friend."

"I don't," she admitted. "You're my only best friend; Castor's just my _other_ friend."

"What about Harry – or even Sybil? Yeah, you and Sybil are good friends."

"Sure we _were_ until she went to Hogwarts; I haven't seen her since she ran away from Dad last week. Cas says she hasn't left her room since and it's been driving their parents _mad_ trying to get her out. But Harry has Ron and Hermione; he doesn't need me as a friend anymore."

"Yeah he does," Jacob disagreed. "He's downstairs playing chess with Ron and Hermione right now – do you want to go down and see them?" Callie was reluctant to. "Oh come on, you _know_ Ron and Hermione's really nice – you'd get along with her really well I think. Come on down with me, _please_; I'm hungry."

She considered it before agreeing to. "Okay, only because I don't want you to starve."

The due exited the room and descended the stairs. Jacob did it quite nonchalantly, bounding down two steps at a time. Callie, on the other hand, timidly walked down them, gripping hold of the banister and peering into the living room where the two twelve-year-olds and one eleven-year-old were playing chess. However, when she got to the bottom of the stairs, they didn't even glance up at her from through the living room, and it wasn't until Jacob barged in with a bag of crisps in his hand, did they first look at Callie, who slowly followed him in there. Jacob threw himself on the sofa, stretching out on it, while Callie merely perched on it like it was a house she had never entered, unlike one she had spent most of her childhood in.

"Who's winning?" Jacob asked, popping open the bag of crisps.

"Ron," Harry grumbled, his pawn being smashed by the former's horse. "But that's only because Hermione showed him where he could take my Queen with his Bishop."

"I saw that for myself," Ron argued, his own pawn being attacked by Harry's rook. "Check." Harry moved another place. "Still check – see how my horse can get your King from there?" Harry then moved it correctly into place, and with one move, Harry was in check mate. "Come and play me now Cal; I could do with some competition."

"I-I can't play," Callie stammered.

"You beat me," Jacob reminded.

"O-Only because Sybil helped me."

"We'll play a team match," Hermione offered. "Harry and Ron verse me and you, Callie."

The young girl was reluctant to accept the stranger's offer, but Callie dropped from the sofa and manoeuvred over to Hermione's side. The two teams arranged their Quidditch pieces into the respective positions, and as the girls were white, they got to move their piece first. They chose to move one of their pawns, to which Ron imitated their move.

The game lasted twenty minutes with intense playing between Ron and Callie. Harry and Hermione gave up eventually and left it to the ginger and the werewolf's Daughter. Eventually, Ron won as predicted by all five of them in the room, but it was a close game.

* * *

"Two weeks," Sirius announced as he walked away from Sybil's permanently closed door. "Two weeks and not a peep from her bedroom, not a sound or a sighting. I'm worried."

James, who was waiting for him on the landing underneath Sybil's bedroom, called back up: "Haven't you tried forcing your way in?"

"Yes, thrice and all she did was scream at me and throw books at us. I know she's in there because she keeps sending her owl backwards and forwards with letters. I could try and intercept them, but I'm not sure what good it would do."

The two men descended the stair case and into the Living Room. Castor was lying down on the sofa, throwing a ball up and down. "You can go round mine if you want," James offered when they joined the room. "Callie and Jacob are there with Harry, Ron and Hermione. You're more than welcome to go over there."

"Don't want to;" said Castor glumly, "I want to see Sybil."

"We all do," Sirius agreed.

"Then try _talking_ to her," Castor suggested and sat up. "Say stuff to her through the door and try and get her out! It worked for me."

Both men looked at the young boy. "Sybil came out of her room?"

"Yeah, the other night. You were asleep and I wanted to speak to Sybbie. It took me _ages_ but it worked; we went downstairs and she made me an omelette."

"And you never told us?" Sirius asked loudly.

"She told me not to," said Castor.

"How is she living up there?" James asked. "She must be _starving_."

"She is, but Draco and some of the others send her food occasionally, and she sneaks into the bathroom when you're out or at night to go to the toilet or have a shower. She's really clever with how she does stuff – and most of the time she's never actually in her room; she sneaks out to Diagon Alley with her friends."

"Good Merlin," Sirius exclaimed. "Didn't you think to tell us?"

"I knew you'd shout at me – that's why Sybil's like she is because she hates you shouting at her! It's not so much you Dad, but Mum. Try and talk to her; I hate Sybbie not being here!"

Through all of this, Sirius had only ever thought of himself and Sybil – he hadn't even given Castor the slightest bit of attention. He never thought to ask how Castor felt about all this, and it was unfair to the young boy. Without another word, Sirius left the room and ran up the stairs, stopping at Sybil's bedroom that was on the top floor. He began hammering on the door again.

"Sybil! Sybil I'm sorry for shouting at you," Sirius called through the door, cautious not to sound angry. "Please Darling, I just want to talk to you." Sirius heard movement on the other side of the door, and his breath caught in his mouth, but it stopped as soon as James and Castor's footsteps down the landing became louder. Realising why Sybil was so reluctant to leave her room, Sirius informed her: "It's only Castor and Uncle James."

There was a lengthy pause until her quiet voice was scarcely heard through the door. "James, I'm sorry how I spoke to you the other night," was all she said.

James waited for Sirius to say something in response to the first sound Sybil made, but Sirius looked at James to say something. Thinking fast on his feet, James said back: "It's fine Sybil; it's forgotten. Come out and we can talk about it."

"Is Mama there?" Sybil asked, and her voice became louder.

"No," Sirius said quickly.

"Where is she? Is she shacking up with some other guy?"

"What's 'shacking up'?" Castor asked, confused, but Sirius optionally ignored him; this was not the time to explain.

"She's with Igor and she won't be back until dinner time and it's only-" Sirius checked his watch he was given from his Uncle Alphard for his seventeenth birthday. "Three o'clock. Come on Darling, come downstairs and you can have some lunch and we can talk about this. I promise you won't be in trouble my Darling, I won't shout at you."

It took Sybil a while to reply, but eventually, she did: "Let me go out on Saturday night to Pansy Parkinson's Birthday Party and I'll come and see you."

Sirius was about to decline it, but after two looks from his son and best friend _strongly_ advising him not to, he relented, sighed, and said: "You can go."

"Will you buy me a new dress?"

It was good to hear Sybil's humour after all this, and with a short laugh, Sirius said: "I'll buy you some shoes as well if you'd like."

Automatically, the door opened, revealing a pale looking brunette girl who looked ghostly. Her hair stuck up from every end and her room smelt vile, like someone had died in there. Even Sybil smelt, but even so, when she threw her arms around Sirius' neck, he didn't push her away. He gripped her lanky hair in his hand and hugged her as tightly as possible. Tears stung his eyes, but he did everything in his power not to let that be shown. She felt lighter than usual also, and that was definitely down to not eating enough while she was in there.

But it reminded him of himself when he was a little older than Sybil. He locked himself in his room for almost the entire summer after his Father swung a punch at him for showing him up at the family Dinner, where nineteen other members of the Black family were present. He locked himself in his room and he felt so lonely, and he resented his parents for not helping him or looking after him. It was that summer he vowed, that if he ever had children, he would never allow them to lock themselves in their rooms feeling worthless, but he had allowed Sybil to do so for two weeks. That wasn't right, how he made her feel, and for that, he most likely felt worse than Sybil did.

So without removing one arm around his Daughter, he led her downstairs.

* * *

Sometimes Remus was lucky how Callie turned out. He was fortunate that he never had the drama Sirius had with Sybil, or the danger James was put in with Harry. Callie was a shy and quiet girl and rarely ever up to mischief. She liked to spend as much time with her Father as she could, reading or just talking. She was a polite girl, everyone told him, such a credit to he, and Remus believed them to the extent that he didn't think he was _worth_ Callie.

She was not as outlandish as Sybil, and though in many eyes nowhere near as beautiful, to Remus, it was Sybil who was nowhere near as beautiful as Callie, but that was so in every Father's eyes. He did wish that people wouldn't compare the two, because they were very different, Remus noticed, as the duo sat beside each other at Dinner, one night.

They were at the Potter's: he and Callie, Sirius, Sybil and Castor and of course, the Potter's. Helena was there for the beginning of the meal, but had come down ill and had to leave, insisting the others stay and have fun. When she left they moved outside into the warm, Summer's air: the children sat away from the adults as the four old friends reminisced about Hogwarts and 'the good old days'.

"Do you reckon I went wrong somewhere with Sybil?" Sirius inquired quietly.

"You sound like your Father," James noted.

"So do you," Sirius retorted.

"That's frightening," Lily laughed, pushing back her dark hair. "More wine, anyone? Sirius don't smash this bottle; it's still full. And you can't blame yourself because Sybil had a bit of a tiff towards the beginning of the Holidays; I'm sure we all did; it takes a while to get accustomed to your new life of living after a year away from it. Sybil was never used to being told who to see and where to go at Hogwarts; she was with her friends all the time, and of course she isn't going to like being told _not_ to be with them."

"I'm letting her go to her party tomorrow, Lily – don't think I'm not giving her any freedom."

"Nothing's happened to her yet," Remus reminded. "Sirius, you've got to remember, that just because she's in Slytherin does not automatically make her a Death Eater."

"Mhm," Sirius agreed, raising the crimson liquid to his lips. "Enough about my disciplinary deprived Daughter, let's talk about Harry; I don't think we've discussed him as much as we should have done, what with all that's been going on."

Speaking of Harry, he had gone to the bathroom, but that was twenty minutes ago. What took him so long, was that when he wandered past his bedroom, to his great surprise he heard some strange noise coming out of it. To that, Harry cautiously opened his bedroom door and was faced with – what he immediately recognised – to be a House Elf.

His initial thought was that it was one of Sirius' new House Elves: Needle, and he had come to look for them but got carried away jumping on Harry's bed, but after closer inspection it was not Needle, for this House Elf had longer and battier ears, eyes the size of apples and a voice squeakier than the noise it made on Harry's bed.

The elf was as shocked to see Harry as the latter was to see the former, but clearly, the House Elf knew who Harry was: "Harry Potter! So long has Dobby wanted to meet you, sir… Such an honour it is…"

"Th-Thank you," said Harry, "um, who are you?"

"Dobby, sir. Just Dobby. Dobby the house-elf," said the creature.

"I know you're a House Elf," informed Harry. "I just don't know what the _hell_ you're doing in my bedroom!"

He wondered if he should go and fetch Jacob to show him this and have a good laugh about it later, but decided against it. "Dobby has come to tell you, sir… it is difficult, sir… Dobby wonders where to begin…"

The young Wizard knew too well what House Elves were like, and knew that this encounter and Dobby's speech may take a little longer than a human's. 'Sit down,' said Harry politely, pointing at the bed."

To his horror, the elf burst into tears — very noisy tears. "S-sit down!' he wailed. 'Never… never ever…"

'I'm sorry,' he whispered, 'I didn't mean to offend you or anything —'

'Offend Dobby!' choked the elf. 'Dobby has never been asked to sit down by a wizard — like an equal —'"

"'You can't have met many decent wizards,' said Harry, trying to cheer him up.

Dobby shook his head. Then, without warning, he leapt up and started banging his head furiously on the window, shouting, 'Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!'"

"'Don't — what are you doing?' Harry hissed, springing up and pulling Dobby back onto the bed.

'Dobby had to punish himself, sir,' said the elf, who had gone slightly cross-eyed. 'Dobby almost spoke ill of his family, sir…'

"Who's your family?" Harry asked curiously. "Do they know you're here?"

'Oh, no, sir, no… Dobby will have to punish himself most grievously for coming to see you, sir. Dobby will have to shut his ears in the oven door for this. If they ever knew, sir-"

"You'd be in trouble?" Harry guessed. "Who's your family?"

"Dobby must not say."

"I can help you," Harry offered. "Free you?"

To which the House Elf burst into tears again. "L-L-_Leave _my family? Dobby could never do that! Dobby must serve them until he _dies_... Such an honourable thing, Harry Potter, for you to save me: Dobby..."

"Okay, okay, I won't free you," Harry said quickly, and glanced out of his bedroom window to see if his parents had moved or his friends, but they were all sat where they had been before, which was a great relief to Harry, he must admit. "But '_trap your ears in the oven door_?' Dobby, don't you think that's a bit extreme? Wouldn't they notice that you did that?"

"Dobby doubts it, sir. Dobby is always having to punish himself for something, sir. They lets Dobby get on with it, sir. Sometimes they reminds me to do extra punishments-"

"-Now you must really tell me who you live with; I can't have you-" Harry stopped himself quickly, recalling how Dobby reacted to Harry's previous kind gestures.

"Harry Potter is humble and modest," said Dobby reverently, his orb-like eyes aglow. "Harry Potter speaks not of his triumph over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named -"

"Voldemort?" said Harry.

Dobby clapped his hands over his bat ears and moaned, "Ah, speak not the name, sir! Speak not the name!"

"Sorry," said Harry quickly. "I know lots of people don't like it. My friends Ron and Hermione... They don't like it."

Dobby leaned toward Harry, his eyes wide as headlights. "Dobby heard tell," he said hoarsely, "that Harry Potter met the Dark Lord for a second time just weeks ago - that Harry Potter escaped yet again." Harry nodded and Dobby's eyes suddenly shone with tears. "Ah, sir," he gasped, dabbing his face with a corner of the grubby pillowcase he was wearing. "Harry Potter is valiant and bold! He has braved so many dangers already! But Dobby has come to protect Harry Potter, to warn him, even if he does have to shut his ears in the oven door later - Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts."

"Are you mad?" Harry exclaimed. "I'm not staying here! I have no freedom here; my Mum and Dad watch me all the time and I'm not with my friends! _You_ can't tell me what to do, Dobby."

"No, no, no," squeaked Dobby, shaking his head so hard his ears flapped. "Harry Potter must stay where he is safe. He is too great, too good, to lose. If Harry Potter goes back to Hogwarts, he will be in mortal danger."

"Why?" said Harry in surprise.

"There is a plot, Harry Potter. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year," whispered Dobby, suddenly trembling all over. "Dobby has known it for months, sir. Harry Potter must not put himself in peril. He is too important, sir!"

"What terrible things?" said Harry at once. "Who's plotting them?"

Dobby made a funny choking noise and then banged his head frantically against the wall. "All right!" cried Harry, grabbing the elf's arm to stop him. "You can't tell me. I understand. But why are you warning me?" A sudden, unpleasant thought struck him. "Hang on - this hasn't got anything to do with Vol - sorry - with You-Know-Who, has it? You could just shake or nod," he added hastily as Dobby's head tilted worryingly close to the wall again.

Slowly, Dobby shook his head.

"Not - not He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, sir -"

"Well, I can't think who else would have a chance of making horrible things happen at Hogwarts," said Harry. "I mean, there's Dumbledore, for one thing - you know who Dumbledore is, don't you?"

Dobby bowed his head.

"Albus Dumbledore is the greatest headmaster Hogwarts has ever had. Dobby knows it, sir. Dobby has heard Dumbledore's powers rival those of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named at the height of his strength. But, sir" - Dobby's voice dropped to an urgent whisper - "there are powers Dumbledore doesn't - powers no decent wizard -"

And before Harry could stop him, Dobby bounded off the bed, seized Harry's desk lamp, and started beating himself around the head with ear splitting yelps.

It was then Harry wished that Ron was here to help him restrain the elf, but he was not, so he would have to do it himself. The elf was screaming so loudly Harry was certain his parents could hear, and sure enough, Sirius, James, Lily and Remus were standing up and staring up at Harry's bedroom. Harry jumped to the window sil and opened the window.

"Harry is everything alright up there?" James shouted up at him, covering his eyes to look away from the sun.

"Uh - yeah," Harry lied. "I just uh - stubbed my toe."

It wasn't convincing, but his parents had no time to say anything else on the matter because Harry slammed the window on them. He turned on the elf, and had a right mind to smack him one with the Beater's bat that was rested against his dresser. But then Harry remembered the abuse he received at home, and quickly decided against the idea.

"Dobby, would you please tell me what's going on with Voldemort, and if you as so much cry one tear I'll... I'll give you a sock," he was frustrated, and knew full well that him giving a sock to Dobby would make no difference into his home. "Dobby, just tell me."

"Harry Potter must stay where he is safe: where he is _loved_."

"Where can be safer than Hogwarts?" Harry asked, choosing to forget Voldemort growing on the back of a Professor's head just last year.

"Harry Potter must promise Dobby he will stay at home."

"Dobby, I _can't-_"

"-Then Dobby will not leave until Harry Potter agrees to stay at home!"

Harry opened his mouth to argue at the elf, but decided against it. The elf had no control over him, and perhaps it wouldn't hurt it if Harry told it a lie. With a smile creeping onto Harry's face, he cleared his throat and said to the elf: "Okay, I'll stay at home," Dobby looked like he was going to burst into tears again. "-But I won't if you start wailing again! Dobby, just _go home_ and I'll _stay home_."

"Dobby very much appreciates this Harry Potter," said the Elf, "Harry Potter is now safe."

And with a flash of smoke, Dobby the House Elf disappeared and Harry was left staring into space.

So it was not surprising, when Harry joined the adults in the garden that he looked rather dazed and not sure about what had just happened. He walked past them in a trance of some sort, until James caught onto his arm and asked him what was the matter.

Slowly: "I can't wait to go back to school."

Sirius chuckled. "I don't think I've ever heard you say that before Harry, we ought to have that written down."

"I'm going to join the others," Harry remarked, removed himself from James' grasp and walked away.

"Harry," Lily called out, and her son slowed. "Is there something the matter? Anything?"

"Nothing at all," Harry lied. "It's like I said: I can't wait to go back to Hogwarts."

And with that, he sat back beside Callie, leaving Lily feeling somewhat confused and concerned, like any other parent would.

* * *

Less than two weeks remained until Hogwarts started, and the Father's of Harry and Sybil thought it was high time the children had their Hogwarts stuff brought. They travelled there by Floo Powder and got there in a matter of minutes. Only James and Sirius, Harry and Sybil were present; Lily and Helena were working and Merlin knew it was impossible to take Jacob and Castor shopping for anyone but them, so they stayed at home with Remus.

They had their robes fitted first, and then went to the Apothecary to get their Potions ingredients. One of the last shops they visited was Wiseacres Wizarding Equipment, and the final shop was Flourish and Blotts. It had taken them two hours to go round all the shops in Diagon Alley. They were all hungry and tired and fed up, and the word that came out of Sirius' mouth when he saw how busy the book shop was, should not be repeated.

"This is a joke this is! What's going on?"

Harry had the initiative to look at one of the moving posters on the wall. "Gilderoy Lockhart's signing books here at half past twelve."

"Thank God your Mum's not here," James muttered to Harry.

"Who's Gilderoy Lockhart?" Sybil asked.

To that, there were lots of cheers and a round of applause. To get a better look at what was going on; Sybil pounded up the stair case and halted at the stop, peering down at the handsome, blonde man in bright robes and a dazzling smile. It did not surprise her that James was grateful Lily was not present; one woman – older than her – was being restrained by a shop keeper.

"Load of old rubbish wouldn't you think, all for a famous author? Next Potter will be signing ice cream sundaes at Fortescue's Parlour!"

Without glancing up, Sybil knew who it was. With a sigh, Sybil responded: "Hi Draco," it did not take a genius to match the voice and pompous attitude to a face.

Downstairs, however, Harry was centre of attention. Just as Harry had reunited with Ron and Hermione and the former's family, Gilderoy Lockhart had grabbed Harry out the crowd (Sybil longed to be Harry when he did) and forced him to take a photo with him. James was struggling to get through the crowd to help his son, but what with the middle-aged women and swooning teenage girls, it was nearly impossible to do so.

"When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography — which I shall be happy to present him now, free of charge —" The crowd applauded again."He had no idea," Lockhart continued, giving Harry a little shake that made his glasses slip to the end of his nose, "that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book, Magical Me. He and his schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September; I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

Sirius had caught up to James halfway through the crowd with ease and murmured to him: "I'll take Voldemort any day over this _twat_."

James did not find it funny, lunged forward and grabbed his blushing twelve-year-old son, pulling him through the adoring crowd whom were still fixated on Gilderoy.

The crowd cheered and clapped and Harry found himself being presented with the entire works of Gilderoy Lockhart. Staggering slightly under their weight, he managed to make his way out of the limelight to the edge of the room, where Ginny was standing next to her new cauldron. James and Sirius left the children, knowing that Harry was in safe hands again, to pay for their son and daughter's books.

"You have these," Harry mumbled to her, tipping the books into the cauldron. "I'll buy my own-"

"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" said a voice Harry had no trouble recognizing like Sybil."Famous Harry Potter," said Malfoy. "Can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page."

"Draco leave him alone," Sybil commanded, pushing through the small gathering and standing beside him. When he wouldn't budge, she started to push him. "_Draco_."

It was Ginny who cried next, asking the same thing Sybil did. Unlucky for her, she received more of a reaction than Sybil.

"Potter, you've got yourself a girlfriend!" drawled Malfoy. Ginny went scarlet.

Ron, looking at Malfoy as if he were something unpleasant on the sole of his shoe, said: "Bet you're surprised to see Harry here, eh?"

"Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley," retorted Malfoy. "I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all those."

Sybil didn't attempt to silence her friend this time, and instead, laughed, but that was soon short lived when her Father came over. "Come on Sybil, let's get you home."

"Well, well, well – Sirius Black." It was Mr. Malfoy. He stood with his hand on Draco's shoulder, snarling in an identical way.

Sybil had never seen her Father look so angry before. Unlike most people, he did not turn red, he turned white. "Sybil. Leave. Now."

"Dad, I was just-"

"-Busy time at the Wizenagamont I hear," said Mr. Malfoy. "What with all those '_criminals_' you have to put away. You would have thought all the cells in Azkaban would be full what with the rubbish the Daily Prophet prints about you... But then again, with _you_ on the court, they can't expect to get much work done – _ah_, and Arthur Weasley!" Ron's Father had joined the group, and now all that remained was James to join them.

"You vile bastard," Sirius spat at Lucius, who looked down on Sirius from the stairs.

"Likewise," he muttered back. "It's nice to see one Black not disgracing the name: dear Old Mummy would be rolling around in her grave if she saw what you're like now, speaking ill to me – _family_."

"I can think of one more person I want rolling around in their grave," Sirius retorted.

Lucius looked down on Sybil. "Oh I think they already are; and you got the greatest prize of all for that."

"Arthur, take the children out the shop," Sirius advised with venom. "I don't wish for them to witness a bloody murder in front of their eyes."

"Oh, I won't kill you Black," Lucius laughed.

"I can't promise the same thing, however," retorted the other.

"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear," said Lucius to Arthur. "All those raids… I hope they're paying you overtime?" He reached into Ginny's cauldron and extracted, from amid the glossy Lockhart books, a very old, very battered copy of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration. "Obviously not," Mr. Malfoy said. "Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy," he said.

"Clearly," said Mr. Malfoy, his pale eyes straying to Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who were watching apprehensively. "The company you keep, Weasley… and I thought your family could sink no lower."

Dozens of heavy spell books came thundering down on all their heads; there was a yell of, 'Get him, Dad!' from Fred or George; Mrs. Weasley was shrieking, 'No, Arthur, no!'; the crowd stampeded backward, knocking more shelves over; 'Gentlemen, please — please!' cried the assistant. Sirius tried to break up the fight, but ended up starting his own one with Lucius.

Eventually, it was broken up and the two men were separated. James was restraining Sirius, and the shop assistant was standing in front of Lucius. The blonde sorted out his robes and eyed the children, but last fell on Sybil.

"Nice to see you again Sybil, I'm grateful for your Father's sake that you were raised with manners, unlike Black here, anyway."

With that, he strolled off, purposely barging into Arthur on his way out. Draco promptly followed after his Father, where as Sybil glared at hers, whose mouth was emancipating curse after curse about Lucius Malfoy. James threw Sirius out onto the street, with the Weasley's and the children following after them. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley said a quick farewell to James and Sirius, and quickly left their children away – ashamed, no doubt, of Mr. Weasley's antics.

"How does Lucius Malfoy know my Father?" Sybil asked Sirius when the Weasley's had left.

"He married my cousin," Sirius grumbled with venom.

"No, not you," Sybil said, "my _other_ Father."

"He doesn't," James replied.

Aghast: "James knows! James knows and not me?"

"Your Dad wants to tell you," said James, "but your Mama does not. He has to respect her wishes."

"Is Lucius Malfoy my Father?"

"No," said Sirius quickly, pulling down his robes and brushing off some of the dirt that trickled out of his mouth.

"Does he _know_ my Father?" She asked.

"_Knew_," Sirius corrected, paying little heed to Sybil and her questions.

"Is he _related_ to my Father?"

To avoid Sirius saying something he regretted, James cut across. "All Pure Blood families are related in some form or another."

"So he's a Pure Blood?" Sybil asked.

"Yes," said James.

"Is he _closely_ related to Lucius Malfoy, like, a brother or something?"

"Malfoy doesn't have a brother," James informed.

"What about a sister?" Sybil asked.

Suspicious to Sybil, with a quick pace, James said: "Come on, let's get to the Leaky Cauldron and sort you out before you go home; Merlin knows your Dad could do with a beer after all this."

With a million questions racing through her mind, Sybil had made advances in her search for her real Father. Little did she know, if James or Sirius had just answered one of her questions honestly, the search for her Father could have been solved within the hour.


	24. Expectations

**A.N. **Been saving up an Author's Note for a very, long time to answer some of your questions. One of the most asked was: _when will we learn Sybil's father_? I was, originally, not going to have the revelation until about chapter 55 or even later than that, but the revelation, will now, be revealed in less than five chapters time! Also, another one is: when will Helena be exposed? And in this chapter, you're going to find out something _very interesting_ that might somewhat prevent/help that happen/ This is a long chapter so brace yourself! Please enjoy and don't forget to give me your feedback by **reviewing **and just include any scenes between characters you want to happen - and predictions, theories will be great too!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. If I did, I would be very, very rich.

* * *

At the Welcoming Feast, Draco Malfoy had asked several times where Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were. It was one of the main things that had occupied his mind, and he hoped that Harry – or better yet, both of them, had been expelled. When he was told that they had arrived to Hogwarts in a stolen flying car, Draco had never been so giddy. Convinced they were going to be expelled, he was devastated on the first morning when he went down to the Great Hall with Crabbe and Goyle that Harry was sat there, bold as brass, eating his breakfast.

But Harry was not bold as brass. He was reading a letter from his parents. It was one of the longest he had ever been sent, and it expressed their disappointment in him. It made Harry feel terrible – he would have rather been sent a Howler like Ron than have to endure reading this letter that made him feel like Troll dung.

When Ron got a Howler, Draco's mood lifted and took great joy in loudly impersonating Mrs. Weasley's voice, quoting the Howler she had sent her youngest son. It was funny – everyone except the tight knit group of Gryffindor's had to admit it. It was an amazing start to the year, some students thought. Draco and the Slytherin's, on the other hand, felt that Harry should have been punished more severely.

Draco shared these views throughout breakfast until the bell rang for first lesson. They had Transfiguration with the Ravenclaw's, which was not a lesson a lot of the students were looking forward to.

Later, Draco calmed down, and Draco and Sybil walked through the bustling corridors of Hogwarts to Transfiguration which was their first lesson back from the summer. Sybil linked her arm through Draco's – which he was reluctant to accept – but did so, none the less.

"Blaise isn't around you know," Draco told her when she linked his arm.

"I know," she answered matter-of-factly. "I just want to link arms with you, that's all. But I want to ask you something as well."

"I knew there was a reason you offered me the last slice of toast this morning," Draco said, "I knew you had an ulterior motive than 'just being nice'. Go on then, what is it you want to ask me?"

"At Flourish and Blott's before your father left, he said something to me about my father. Does he know my father?"

"Probably," said Draco.

"_You_ don't know who my father is?"

"Father probably mentioned it once, but I don't remember. If I find out, I'll tell you. That is, do you even want to know who the man is?"

"Yes," said Sybil, "but he's dead so it won't do me a lot of good. I have another family out there, possibly a big brother who's married with children. I could be an Auntie and I don't know. For all I know, I could walk past my Half-Brother or Half-Sister or Niece or Nephew in the corridor and I won't even know."

With a smirk: "You could be in a lesson with him."

"Exactly!" Sybil cried in outrage.

Draco knew who Sybil's Father was – how could he not, after all? But he said nothing for the satisfaction of this poor girl's discomfort. Tiresomely, he checked his watch which was tied to his wrist. "It's gone nine and Transfiguration's already started, we're late already."

Sybil halted in her tracks, and scuffed the ground with her feet. She looked down at the grass, then up at Draco. "I'm not really in the mood for Transfiguration," she admitted.

"We can go back up the Common Room if you'd like," he offered.

She nodded, gladly accepting his offer and the two Slytherin's marched back up to the castle.

They spent the first two lessons together in the common room using the excuse that they had got lost. They turned up for Potions with the Gryffindor's and History of Magic (due to Sybil's persuasion) and then went out for lunch. Reunited with Crabbe and Goyle, Draco returned to complaining about favouritism towards Harry, and when he noticed that Harry, Ron and Hermione Granger were leaving the Great Hall, Draco summoned the Slytherin's to follow them out.

They lingered by a tree, watching the trio until Draco could think of something cocky to say. He almost had something to comment about Mrs. Weasley, but he was stopped when a very small, mousy-haired boy he'd seen trying on the Sorting Hat last night staring at Harry as though transfixed. He was clutching what looked like an ordinary Muggle camera, and the moment Harry looked at him, he went bright red.

Draco watched them with amusement. When the boy held out the camera Draco barked with laughter and sauntered towards Harry, Ron and Hermione and the strange first-year boy.

"Signed photos? You're giving out signed photos, Potter? Everyone line up!" Draco roared to the crowd. "Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"

Blaise Zabini: the cliché tall dark and handsome, appeared at Sybil and her best friend Daphne Greengrass' side, and leaned in close to Sybil's ear. "He can be a right cocky bastard sometimes, can't he?"

"Yes," Sybil agreed with a smile. "But he's a funny cocky bastard."

"No, I'm not," said Harry angrily, his fists clenching. "Shut up, Malfoy."

"You're just jealous," piped up the boy who was called Colin Creevey, whose entire body was about as thick as Vincent Crabbe's neck who was – like always – glued to Draco's side.

"Jealous?" said Draco, who didn't need to shout anymore: half the courtyard was listening in. "Of what? I don't want a foul scar right across my head, thanks. I don't think getting your head cut open makes you that special, myself."

"Eat slugs, Malfoy," said Ron angrily. Crabbe stopped laughing and started rubbing his knuckles in a menacing way.

"Be careful, Weasley," sneered Draco. "You don't want to start any trouble or your Mummy'll have to come and take you away from school." He put on a shrill, piercing voice. "'If you put another toe out of line'—"A knot of Slytherin fifth-years nearby laughed loudly at this."Weasley would like a signed photo, Potter," smirked Draco. "It'd be worth more than his family's whole house —"

Ron whipped out his Spellotaped wand, but Hermione shut Voyages with Vampires with a snap and whispered, "Look out!"

"What's all this, what's all this?" Gilderoy Lockhart was striding toward them, his turquoise robes swirling behind him. "Who's giving out signed photos?"

Harry started to speak but he was cut short as Lockhart flung an arm around his shoulders and thundered jovially, "Shouldn't have asked! We meet again, Harry!"

Pinned to Lockhart's side and burning with humiliation, Draco smirked and slid back to Daphne, Blaise and Sybil who had remained by the tree, but watching the scene as intently as the others. "I'd really hate to be in Gryffindor when the only people in the year are the likes of Potter and Weasley and Mudblood Granger. I think you did well to avoid it, Sybil."

"So do I," she answered truthfully. "Now can we go back inside please? It's too cold out here and you've had your fun."

Draco really had had his fun, so allowed their group to return inside.

* * *

Lily Potter had never been so disappointed in her son.

She had been disappointed when Harry kicked a boy in his class when he was seven. She had been disappointed when he maliciously broke Jacob's favourite toy because he didn't get it himself. This was something new all together.

Mr. Weasley was facing an inquiry at work as well as being fined. They were threatening to fire James for the mistakes his son had made. Lily was lucky that her job in the Daily Prophet wasn't at risk, but they had made her write a column about her son's mistakes even though current events weren't her topic. When Lily discovered the news she was furious, but James had only laughed at it until he learned the extent of Harry's crimes by Severus Snape.

Of all the Professor's that could have written to her, it was Severus. She recognised his handwriting in an instance, and as she read the letter she could only imagine the pleasure he must have taken in it. It made her feel sick as she imagined the look of delight on his face. Sirius said it was probably his equivalent to sex, but Lily wasn't in the mood for making jokes about it.

She felt terrible for Arthur and Molly and had offered to pay the fine for them. They had insisted that because it was their car it was their responsibility to pay repentance. It was no secret they were short on money, and the Potter's and Weasley's came to the agreement that they would pay half each. All it would take was one trip to Gringotts for the Potter's to pay, but for the Weasley's it would be much harder.

They had tried to hide the news from Jacob, to prevent him from pulling a similar stunt when he got to Hogwarts and think it was acceptable because his idol of a big brother had done it. In the end, Castor had told him and for once, Harry had behaved worse than Sybil.

Because within the first week of Hogwarts, they had received no bad news from Sybil or her Professor's. Sirius and Helena hoped she had turned a new leaf, but Lily had a horrible suspicion that their wish would soon prove to have been futile once she was back with her Slytherin friends.

Lily was lucky her son had nice friends who wouldn't (usually) cause trouble.

* * *

On Saturday night, Draco was looking more arrogant than usual. Daphne was hoping for a quiet night with Sybil, sitting by the fire, writing essays or reading a book, and she got that for half an hour until the boys arrived.

They were so rowdy and so rude. They could distract Sybil in a heartbeat – especially Blaise. All he'd have to do is look at her and she swoon over him. It was pathetically obvious, really. Anyone could tell Sybil was obsessed with Blaise – and even Blaise knew it too. He was an idiot for not doing anything about it, Daphne thought. Even if he didn't like her he should at least put her out of her misery instead of letting her consume herself with him. But Sybil would deny it whenever someone brought it up. She could pick nearly any boy in their year, but she chose the one who treated her like rubbish.

Sybil ignored Daphne when Blaise arrived, and Daphne was trapped in conversation with Theodore Nott. Theodore was rude and stuck up, believing himself to be better than everybody else just because his family was one of the top five wealthiest in the Wizarding World. Not many people liked him, so it was a rarity that Daphne had to talk to him.

"Why don't they just kiss and get it over with?" Theodore commented after five minutes of silence with Daphne. "It would save us the trouble."

Daphne nodded. "Draco has some big news for us apparently. Do you know what it is?"

"I doubt it's 'big news', and I don't know. He's been bursting to tell us all week though. I bet it's got something to do with Potter."

"Probably," Daphne agreed.

Sure enough, when Draco came to tell them the news, it did have something to do with Harry. When he strutted over to his friends by the fireplace, they were shocked to see him dressed in a dark green jumper, brown trousers and brown leather boots. It was clear to them, with a shiny broomstick over his shoulder, that he was the newest member of the Quidditch team. They knew this because the seventh year seeker on the team had left school and Draco was dressed in new Quidditch uniform and had a broomstick in his hand.

"Do you like it?" Draco asked, laying the broomstick out in front of them. "The newest model, it only came out last month: the Nimbus Two-Thousand-and-One. Father brought one for everyone on the team. Aren't they magnificent?"

Blaise dropped on his knees to get a closer look at the broom. It had a shiny black frame, neatly plucked twigs and gold embroidery on the stick. The dark skinned Slytherin stroked it with his two fingers.

"Bloody hell Malfoy... How in the name of Merlin did your Father afford this?"

Draco smirked and snatched the broom away from Blaise, narrowly missing the back of Theodore's head. "Father can afford anything I want. They fly like a dream; we were on the Quidditch pitch just this morning trying them out. They outperform the Nimbus-Two-Thousand model by a great amount. This will show the Gryffindor's at their game – oh you should have seen Potter's face!"

"What did he say?" Sybil asked.

"Not much, but Weasley got all sour about it – and so did Granger for that matter. I've never heard a Mudblood speak to someone of my status so appallingly."

Daphne loathed the way Draco described people who were Muggle Born or Half Bloods. It was disgusting, all because Draco considered himself high born. He was no better than anybody else at Hogwarts. Daphne really detested him for it. If it wasn't for Sybil, she'd stay as far away from Draco and Theodore as she could.

"Weasley tried to curse me earlier on," Draco admitted and he flung himself in his usual arm chair that no one was foolish enough to sit in. "But it backfired on him; he ended up coughing slugs."

"Coughing slugs?" Blaise laughed and he sat back on the sofa.

"Had them pouring out of his mouth, ended up crying to that oaf Hagrid. I don't think I'd ever laughed at anything more in my life. Sybil, you would have liked to see that."

"It sounds disgusting," she said.

Daphne pitied Sybil most of the time. It was as obvious as her infatuation with Blaise, that in first year she had been desperate for Draco's attention. She shouldn't have bothered because now it had all changed. Draco was desperate for Sybil's attention, now. Daphne didn't know if Draco liked Sybil in the way she liked Blaise, or he just enjoyed her company and liked having an intelligent (well, she couldn't really say Sybil was intelligent; she thought Hogwarts was in Wales) friend. Their friendship was toxic whatever it was; fighting for each other's approval all the time. Draco was desperate to keep her away from Potter and Weasley and Sybil desperate to be like Draco – and it had worked for both of them. Sybil hated Harry and Ron and she was becoming more like Draco by the day. If Daphne didn't know any better, she'd say they were related how similar they had become.

"Is he alright?" Daphne dared ask.

Draco turned to her. "Do you care?"

"Yes," she replied honestly.

"He's fine," Draco said sourly, "as am I thank you for asking; it was trauma him trying to curse me. Could you imagine if it was _me_ who was choking on slugs? I'd have Father take every penny from the Weasley's that they'd got."

"Is that your answer to everything in life, Malfoy: go running to Daddy because of every little problem?"

Daphne may dislike Theodore for a lot of reasons, but one thing she liked about him was the nerve he had to stand up to Draco.

Daphne wished to go to bed when the conversation changed but she so desperately wanted to finish her letter to her little sister Astoria, who had received her letter from Hogwarts congratulating her on a place next year. Theodore's brother William would be starting next year, too, as well as Sybil's brother Castor and Harry Potter's brother, too. Daphne hoped Sybil's brother and her sister would be friends, but from what Sybil had told Daphne about Castor, that seemed unlikely.

Daphne hoped Astoria wouldn't be in Slytherin, and would be somewhere better like Ravenclaw where she would be away from the likes of Draco Malfoy. She could imagine Draco's torment to her sister next year – to any first year, actually, and Daphne wouldn't have the nerve to say anything. Daphne hated being so shy and so kind; it made her too afraid of confrontation.

After a while she made an excuse to leave and did so promptly. Sybil barely acknowledged her departure as she was too busy fawning over Blaise, who was sat with his legs out nonchalantly, enjoying Sybil's desperation. Daphne watched her friend and realised just how much she resented her sometimes.

* * *

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_ Dear Miss. Lupin,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1st September. We await your owl by no later than 31st July._

Yours sincerely,

_Minerva McGonagall_

If Callie had to pinpoint the day that made her happiest, and the day that changed her life, she could say it was the eleventh September nineteen-eighty-two when she got her letter to Hogwarts. Her letter from Hogwarts was her ticket out of London and away from her father's protection. Where she could do what she wanted, be friends with who she wanted and go wherever she wanted to go. She'd have no boundaries, and just holding this letter gave her so many possibilities of what adventures she could have with Jake and Castor. The thought of joining the grandiose castle was so overwhelming she had to sit down; she could barely contain her excitement.

The thought of learning proper magic excited her, and not just the dreary theory work her Tutor taught her. Her ancient old Tutor had to be one of the most boring men in existence. He had been the Black's Tutor and Sirius had recommended him for Callie when she left St. Oliver's. He taught her Latin (which was pointless) basic mathematics, grammar and punctuation and some theory work in Potions and Transfiguration to name a few. She already knew she hated Potions just by work with Tutor.

But Tutor was her escape into the Wizarding World while she was still at home, sat at her Kitchen table with her mother's ancient cat (ninety-one-years-old) brushing against her legs, and the day that she got her Hogwarts letter was no different apart from it being a Sunday so Tutor was not there. Her mother's cat Sammy was still brushing up against Callie's bare, swinging legs when she propped herself up on the counter top. Perhaps the grey and white tabby would have joined her if he wasn't at risk of maiming himself in the process.

"See this Sammy? This is my Hogwarts letter. you and I are going to Hogwarts together next year," the cat made no response. "If you're not dead by then."

Sammy pulled her claws up on the counter and scratched down; adding to the claw marks already on the furniture, yowling for Callie to be attentive, but the young girl was absorbed in her own mind to pay attention to the cat.

It was very often that Callie would be awake earlier than Remus, but on her birthday Remus did his best to wake up before Callie. Usually, he was successful, but this was her eleventh birthday, and Callie had barely slept a wink just waiting for her Hogwarts letter to arrive.

When Remus saw his daughter sat on the counter, licking the spoon she had been eating cereal with, he couldn't help but smile. She was reading something on parchment, which Remus knew immediately, was her Hogwarts letter. It was a proud moment for Remus, but it meant that Callie would be leaving him, which made him miserable. Daisy, pleased for company that would pet her, pranced straight to Remus and brushed about his legs. He bent down and scratched the cat on the top of her head, in between her grey and white ears and said to his daughter, "Please take this cat with you to Hogwarts."

Callie grinned up at her father. "I got my letter!"

Lydia Greengrass had fantasised about this moment ever since she found out she was pregnant. She hoped the letter would arrive when she and Remus were sat together at the breakfast table, Remus reading the Daily Prophet and Lydia cooking breakfast for the family. Lydia wanted more children, and Remus had promised she'd get her wish once Callie had turned two. Lydia longed for a boy: Edward she said she wanted to name him, and because of Lydia, Remus had loved that name.

Her fantasy had been this: they would set the letter down for breakfast in the middle of the table. Edward would be complaining how he wanted to go to Hogwarts and Lydia would be making breakfast with their youngest daughter Monica (hopefully) and she'd be licking the spoon of the pancake batter. Then Callie would come downstairs. Monica would run into her arms, Lydia would hug her daughter and lead her to the breakfast table when she'd whack the back of Edward's head after he said something rude to her. Then she'd open her presents and they'd give her the Hogwarts letter and she'd be overwhelmed.

This was quite different; there was no Lydia cooking breakfast with Monica and there was no Callie swiping her little brother's head. Instead there was a cat scratching Remus' leg and Callie eating soggy cereal, having already opened her letter.

"Your Mum was so excited for this day," Remus confessed. "She had it all planned even before we knew what we would name you. We knew the name of your brother and sister, but not yours. She'd have been really proud of you."

Callie held out her letter to her Dad. "Do you want to read it?"

"Of course."

Callie dropped off the counter and when her Dad got closer, wrapped her arms around him. "I love you Dad."

He kissed the top of her head. "It was around this time you were born, you know?" She did know, and it meant that it was around this time that her Mum had died. "You owe your life to Doctor Ernest Temple."

Callie gave a small smile and removed herself from her Dad's grasp. "I can't wait to go," she declared. "I have to wait a whole year. Will you write to me? What house do you think I'll be in?"

She was so eager, and that deserved another kiss on the top of her head. "Of course I'll write to you; Aunt Lily writes to Harry three times a week. Uncle Sirius writes to Sybil the same. And you know it won't matter to me what house you're in; if you're in Gryffindor that's great and if Ravenclaw fantastic. Either of the other two houses I'll love you all the same. It might turn out for you that Hufflepuff is the greatest house."

"I want to be in Gryffindor," Callie said, "like you and the others."

"It won't matter to any of us if you get put in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. We don't treat Sybil any differently because of her house, only because of the friends she made. Now stop worrying, sit down and I shall cook you some breakfast."

"I've already eaten."

"A bowl of cereal isn't enough. Sit down." Callie did as instructed and Remus walked to the fridge. Callie returned to reading her letter and Daisy continued trying to get Callie's attention. "I love you Callie, and I always did."

She barely glanced up at him. "I told you earlier I loved you too, and that hasn't changed in two minutes, Dad."

"I know," his whisper was lost in Callie's mind through the letter she was reading.

* * *

_"Come - come to me - Let me rip you... Let me tear you... Let me kill you -"_

_Harry was in detention with Gilderoy Lockhart when he heard the voice. He heard it again and was certain that it was not in his imagination. He looked at Lockhart, who was still rattling on about some top-selling list Harry had been doing his best to ignore._

_"Did you say something?" Harry asked abruptly. "There was a voice."_

"Sorry?" said Lockhart, looking puzzled. "What voice?"

"That - that voice that said - didn't you hear it?" Lockhart looked at Harry with great astonishment. "Your head must be so high up your arse you can't hear then," he muttered under his breath. "Idiot."

Lockhart was straining to listen to Harry. "What are you talking about, Harry? Perhaps you're getting a little drowsy? Great Scott - look at the time! We've been here nearly four hours! I'd never have believed it - the time's flown, hasn't it?"

Harry didn't answer. He was straining his ears to hear the voice again, but there was no sound now except for Lockhart telling him he mustn't expect a treat like this every time he got detention.

Feeling dazed, Harry left.

It was so late that the Gryffindor common room was almost empty. Harry went straight up to the dormitory. Ron wasn't back yet. Harry pulled on his pyjamas, got into bed, and waited. Half an hour later, Ron arrived, nursing his right arm and bringing a strong smell of polish into the darkened room.

"My muscles have all seized up," he groaned, sinking on his bed. "Fourteen times he made me buff up that Quidditch cup before he was satisfied. And then I had another slug attack all over a Special Award for Services to the School. Took ages to get the slime off - How was it with Lockhart?" Keeping his voice low so as not to wake Neville, Dean, and Seamus, Harry told Ron exactly what he had heard. "And Lockhart said he couldn't hear it?" said Ron. Harry could see him frowning in the moonlight. "D'you think he was lying? But I don't get it - even someone invisible would've had to open the door."

"I know," said Harry, lying back in his four-poster and staring at the canopy above him. "I don't get it either. But it can't be good hearing voices, can it?"

"Perhaps you were imagining it being bored out of your brains with Lockhart. I would have rather had detention with Snape cleaning stinky cauldrons than cleaning trophies with Filch. Wouldn't you?" Harry was barely listening; he was absorbed in the voices he had been hearing. "Good night, Harry."

It wasn't until a few weeks later that Harry heard the voices again.

He was returning from Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday Party when he heard it. Harry was with Ron and Hermione in the Entrance Hall, shivering from the cold room they had just come out of when he heard it:

"… rip… tear… kill…"

It was the same voice, the same cold, murderous voice he had heard in Lockhart's office. He stumbled to a halt, clutching at the stone wall, listening with all his might, looking around, squinting up and down the dimly lit passageway.

"Harry, what're you —?"

"It's that voice again — shut up a minute —"

"… soo hungry… for so long…"

"Listen!" said Harry urgently, and Ron and Hermione froze, watching him.

"… kill… time to kill…"

The voice was growing fainter. Harry was sure it was moving away — moving upward. A mixture of fear and excitement gripped him as he stared at the dark ceiling; how could it be moving upward? Was it a phantom, to whom stone ceilings didn't matter?

"This way," he shouted, and he began to run, up the stairs, into the entrance hall. It was no good hoping to hear anything here, the babble of talk from the Halloween feast was echoing out of the Great Hall.

Harry sprinted up the marble staircase to the first floor, Ron and Hermione clattering behind him.

"Harry, what're we —"

"SHH!"

Harry strained his ears. Distantly, from the floor above, and growing fainter still, he heard the voice: "… I smell blood… I SMELL BLOOD!"

His stomach lurched —

"It's going to kill someone!" he shouted, and ignoring Ron's and Hermione's bewildered faces, he ran up the next flight of steps three at a time, trying to listen over his own pounding footsteps — Harry hurtled around the whole of the second floor, Ron and Hermione panting behind him, not stopping until they turned a corner into the last, deserted passage.

"Harry, what was that all about?" said Ron, wiping sweat off his face. "I couldn't hear anything…"

But Hermione gave a sudden gasp, pointing down the corridor.

"Look!"

Something was shining on the wall ahead. They approached slowly, squinting through the darkness. Foot-high words had been daubed on the wall between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches.

_THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.__  
ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE_

There was someone stood there with the writing. It was a girl, and on closer inspection Harry discovered it was Sybil. She was staring, as shocked at the writing as Harry, Ron and Hermione were. When she heard footsteps, she ran to Harry.

"I swear I didn't do it Harry, it was here when I got here... I needed to go to the toilet – these are the best ones!"

But Harry ignored Sybil. Though he knew Sybil would not be capable of doing such a thing, he wouldn't put it past someone that she was friends with. He pushed her aside, and saw something else beside the writing.

"What's that thing — hanging underneath?" said Ron, a slight quiver in his voice.

As they edged nearer, Harry almost slipped — there was a large puddle of water on the floor; Ron and Hermione grabbed him, and they inched toward the message, eyes fixed on a dark shadow beneath it. All four of them realized what it was at once, and leapt backward with a splash.

"It's Mrs. Norris," Sybil whispered.

Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat, was hanging by her tail from the torch bracket. She was stiff as a board, her eyes wide and a few seconds, they didn't move. Then Ron said, "Let's get out of here."

"Shouldn't we try and help —" Harry began awkwardly.

"Trust me," said Ron. "We don't want to be found here."

Sybil grabbed Harry's arm. "What do we do?"

He threw her off. "_We_? There's no 'we' anymore Sybil. This is your mess, you sort it out."

She looked devastated when the trio turned to walk away, but it was too late. A rumble, as though of distant thunder, told them that the feast had just ended. From either end of the corridor where they stood came the sound of hundreds of feet climbing the stairs, and the loud, happy talk of well-fed people; next moment, students were crashing into the passage from both ends.

The chatter, the bustle, the noise died suddenly as the people in front spotted the hanging cat. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood alone, in the middle of the corridor, as silence fell among the mass of students pressing forward to see the grisly sight.

Then someone shouted through the quiet.

"Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

It was Draco Malfoy and hearing his voice, Sybil slipped beside him, still looking terrified, leaving the trio alone in the corridor.

* * *

_Pregnant_.

All the thoughts that raced through her mind were nothing compared to the ultimate question of how _he_ would react. Would _he_ accept her? Would _he_ be mad at her? She had gone through this all before; she had two children with two different Dad's, and all those times she wondered how _he_ would take the news. But this time, that thought was more extreme. This time, she had her children to look out for.

She could not bear if Sirius threw her out the house if he found out that the baby Helena was carrying was not his. The worst thing was, was that it would be obvious, when born, that the baby was not his. For starters, Igor had bright blonde hair and blue eyes and chiselled features, where as Sirius had dark hair, grey eyes and dark features. Another thing, was that Helena and Sirius hadn't had sex in... _three months_? And she was only a few weeks pregnant. He would know for sure that something was wrong about this... Unless...

Not bearing to lose her children, Helena Rosier concocted a wicked scheme to change Sirius' opinion when she revealed she was pregnant. She called off sick from work, cancelled her Dinner with Igor and stayed home. She lathered herself in scented products, all the time hating herself by what she was going to do, and put on the most provocative lingerie she owned.

At five o'clock when Sirius came through the door, like always, he searched the bottom floor for a child or Helena, but if he could not find one, (he did not find anyone; Castor was round James'. Sybil was back at Hogwarts and Helena was lying in their bed), he would go upstairs to his bedroom, where he surely found Helena stretched out on the bed, arousing.

"I don't think I tell you often enough how much I love you," Helena managed, her voice breaking. "Or show you often enough."

Smiling, Sirius dropped his robe to the floor and ventured to his bed. He kissed his wife on the lips and joined her. "No, I don't think you do."

She felt sick to the stomach and she wanted to stop. This wasn't right, she _knew_ this wasn't right, but the love for her two children – _three_ children, now – outweighed the guilt she felt into luring Sirius to bed. "Well can I show you?"

He wasn't to blame for this; she had to tell herself. "Do you really need to ask?"

She tried to keep her mind blank as they undressed each other and she tried to keep a clear conscious. This was impossible though, as she felt so guilty about everything. How could she do this to him? To Sybil and to Castor. She had to hold back the tears when she thought about her children, her _beautiful_ children whom she loved more than anything else in the world despite what she felt for Igor. This was wrong, this was _so_ wrong.

* * *

He hadn't expected her to get pregnant – not in a million years.

Igor thought this was all a bit of fun, he and Helena, that she was eventually going to leave Sirius and the children and start a new, sex-filled life with him. But now they were going to have a baby together, a baby that would be born in a mere seven month's time, a baby that will change everything.

He was shell-shocked when Helena told him, and he didn't know what to say, what to do or how to react. The younger woman did not seem joyous at the prospect at raising a child with him, but perhaps that was just the responsibility or the hormones kicking in, or perhaps the guilt.

But what if Helena would leave Sirius and the two bastards and start a new life with him? Yes, that would be good: he, Helena and their child. They'd live at Durmstrang with him and his son (or so he hoped) would have a good education and be raised as his heir for his decent sized fortune. Come to think of it, the idea of he, Helena and their son was a very good future to have.

"What are we going to do?" Igor asked after the lengthy silence. "Have you told Black?"

"No, not yet," Helena admitted. "It's not his child."

More silence followed. "How do you know that?"

"Because we haven't had sex in three months."

Was it supposed to be a relief that the child she was carrying was his? Perhaps he held out for little hope that the child was Black's so that Igor didn't have to carry the responsibilities. Igor sat down on his bed and massaged his temple.

"I'm a fifty-two-year-old man," Igor began. "I'm old enough to be a Grandfather."

"It's never too late to be a Father, though," Helena said, "my own Father was forty when I was born and forty-four when Evan joined us. James' parents were fifty something, so you can never be too old to be a Father. So I'm not going to tell Sirius until later; I have a scan in three weeks time with the Muggle Hospital to find out more about it. Will you come with me?"

"When is it?"

"Two weeks exactly."

To which Igor sighed. "I can't; it's my sister's birthday in Bulgaria that day."

"What if I change it to tomorrow?"

"Then it will only be eight weeks in – when can you find out if it is a boy or a girl?"

"The scan at the Muggle Hospital is to make sure that our baby is healthy. There's a Potion that I took for Sybil and Castor's pregnancy that told me, after twelve weeks, whether or not it was a boy or girl. They were both right."

"Then go to your scan on the eleventh and take the Potion and find out, please, if we are having a son or a daughter," said Igor. He got up of the bed, strolled to Helena and grasped her face in between his hands. He planted a kiss on her forehead and stood back to admire her. "You are so beautiful, my dearest."

Smiling: "I love you, Igor, and I always will. Please remember that."

He kissed her again. "How could I ever forget?"

"I don't know," she admitted and moved his kiss further south. "I just want you to know that I love you, too."

"How could _I_ ever forget, my Dearest, because I love you more than you love me?"

Again they kissed, and the prospect of raising a baby with Igor was much more appealing to Helena than raising another child with Sirius ever could be; it was time for change.

* * *

"So I'm pregnant," Helena revealed one night after Castor had gone to bed.

Sirius had had the day from hell at work. He had stayed overtime to continue working on a case that he had failed and had to write a report on what went wrong and where the team could have improved, and to be honest, it was a completely pointless task. He was sat on his sofa, drifting off to sleep with a glass of Bulkins Beer in his hand when Helena announced the news. That turned his day from hell into the complete opposite.

"I went to the Hospital today," Helena began. "I found out a few days ago," the first of her lies, "but I didn't want to tell you until I was certain. I got a picture by the way."

She held out the sonogram for Sirius, but it was extremely hard to make out. It looked like an oval blob in the centre of a black background – Sirius wouldn't have guessed it was his child unless Helena had told him.

"This is unbelievable," Sirius whispered, shaking his head.

He got up and kissed his wife, but she wore a large grin and pushed him back. "I found out what we're having too. I just took the Potion and the result came in – would you like to know?"

Sirius was not sure if he wanted to know. "Helena as long as our baby is healthy I don't mind. What did they say at the Hospital?"

"That everything is fine with the baby," she replied. "The baby is due in late March, early April."

Sirius counted on his fingers. "That's in five or six months. Have you told anyone else?"

_Igor_. "Only the Father," she echoed innocently.

"When do we tell Castor – and Sybil, too. We should probably write to her."

"We'll tell her at Christmas," Helena decided. "It's in less than two months and it would be better if she heard the news from us face-to-face what with all the drama recently. We'll tell Castor when we're ready, but _before_ we tell James, Lily and Remus though. I know they're our friends, but if you tell them I don't know if I could forgive you this time."

"This time?" Sirius reiterated.

"You told them about Sybbie's Father," Helena recalled. "You told them who he is, what he did and what happened to him in the end – how could you expect me to trust you after that?"

That hit Sirius like a ton of bricks, and suddenly, the news of his new child was much less joyous to him. "That was one thing!"

"One _ginormous_ thing and I trusted you! I thought we told each other everything!"

"You didn't exactly tell me about him, did you? He turned up on our doorstep within months of you moving in with me and I hadn't the foggiest what that man was doing here – for all I know he had come and finished the job off that Lord Voldemort wanted to do to the Order a few years too late."

"What about you?" She shouted back. "You've kept secrets!"

She tried to think of examples, but she could not think of any. Sirius had been completely honest with her about everything, but there was Helena, hoarding lie after lie, secret after secret, affair after affair. "They're not as bad as screwing a _fucking_ rapist Death Eater and keeping his child!"

"_I_ was raped."

"With all the lies you've told me over the years I wouldn't be surprised if it was voluntary."

"You _bastard_," Helena hissed scathingly. "How _dare_ you?"

"Helena, I'm sorry, I've just had a bad day at work-"

"-That doesn't make it excusable!" She exclaimed. She shook her head at him. "You know what, I'm carrying a baby, Sirius, and this is how you treat me? This is how you _thank _me? Well, you know what, I'm not staying anywhere a moment longer where I'm not wanted." She stormed out the door and Sirius chased after her, but by the time he got out into the doorway she was putting on her coat and had grabbed her wand. "By the way, Sirius, before I forget: I'm having a girl. So this is another Daughter you've fucked up now," and then in a flash, she was gone.

Like most nights, she arrived in Igor's Office, and like most nights, he was waiting for her. What he rarely received when she visited him, was Helena treating him to a string of curse words and throwing her jacket on the sofa with anger. She ranted on and on about Black and described him in ways that made Igor's mouth twitch into a smile.

"I'm sorry," Helena sighed at the end of it all. "I shouldn't be taking this all out on you. I'm sorry Igor... I'm sorry."

He held her in her arms, stroked her dark hair and whispered in her ear: "It's alright, my Dearest, it's not your fault, you deserve to be somewhere where you're treated with respect, where you're deserved and loved."

"I know," she agreed.

"So how was the appointment?" Igor asked, holding her off at length. "Is our baby safe? Is it healthy?"

"Yes," she smiled as he snaked his arms around her growing belly. "The baby is safe and the baby is healthy, and the baby is a girl. Igor, we're having a Daughter."

He wanted a son. He wanted an heir. He didn't want a Daughter. He didn't want a little girl. He wanted a strong boy who would grow up to be just like him. Not a little girl with hair and eyelashes and good-looks. He tried to hide his disappointment. "Are you sure the child is mine?" But it was unsuccessful.

She stared at him. "Excuse me?"

"Karkaroff children have always been boys," Igor explained. "It's just how it always has been."

"And so have Rosier's," Helena informed with a smile. "Our Daughter shall be the first Rosier girl born in nine generations, and the first Karkaroff born in-"

"Forever," he completed.

She gave him a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry, but I can't help it if it's a girl."

"I know," Igor relented. "First thing tomorrow morning I will buy a crib for our child."

Confused: "_You'll_ buy a crib?"

"Of course; the baby is going to live here, with us, in Durmstrang, right? That is my understanding, we spoke about this when we first got together: as soon as a child is born and you have been looked after in England and had the baby where Sybil and Castor were born, you will move to Durmstrang with me and raise the child, leaving your family behind-"

"-We never agreed to that," Helena interrupted.

"Of course we did," said Igor.

"No, I think I'd remember agreeing to leave my _children_ behind."

In an attempt to keep Helena, he corrected himself: "Of course, your other children can stay with us whenever they like, and live with us when this child gets older. My Dearest, it _is_ what we planned. When will you leave Sirius?"

"Soon I hope," Helena smiled.

He kissed her temple and held her closer in his arms. "This is the right thing to do: our baby being with her Father and Mother from the day she is born. She will have the finest education, finest clothes and carry the name of the infamous, well-respected family in Europe. Can you ask for anything better?"

She could get all that in England, Helena realised: have the finest education in Hogwarts, have the finest clothes like Sybil and carry the name of the infamous, well-respected family in England like Castor. But Helena longed to be with Igor like the sun longed to be with the sky in morn.

* * *

On one evening Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat in the common room one night after learning about the Chamber of Secrets from a reluctant Professor Binns.

"Who can it be, though?" Hermione said in a quiet voice, as though continuing a conversation they had just been having. "Who'd want to frighten all the Squibs and Muggle-borns out of Hogwarts?"

"Let's think," said Ron in a mock puzzlement. "Who do we know who thinks Muggle-borns are scum?"

"Most Slytherin's," said Harry.

Hermione sighed. "If you're talking about Malfoy-"

"Of course I am!" said Ron. "You've heard him- 'You'll be next, Mudbloods!'- come on, you've only got to look at his foul rat face to know it's him-"

"Malfoy, the Heir of Slytherin?" said Hermione sceptically.

"Look at his family," said Harry, closing his books, too. "The whole lot of them have been in Slytherin; he's always boasting about it. They could easily be Slytherin's descendants. His father's definitely evil enough."

"They could've had the key to the Chamber of Secrets for centuries!" said Ron. "Handing it down, father to son…"

"Well," said Hermione cautiously, "I suppose it's possible…."

"But how do we prove it?" said Harry darkly.

"You could talk to Rosier?" Ron suggested. "She was there on the night we found the writing – what if Malfoy blackmailed her into writing it?"

"Since when have you been on last name terms with Sybil?" Hermione asked.

"Since when have you been on first names?" Ron scoffed. "Come on, she's not very bright, is she? If Malfoy's threatened her or _bribed_ her she doesn't know how to say no. My guess, is while he was eating at the feast he got her to write on the wall. It all makes sense!"

"But if that's true, how do we find out?" Harry asled.

"There might be a way," said Hermione slowly, dropping her voice still further. "Of course, it would be difficult. And dangerous, very dangerous. We'd be breaking about fifty school rules, I expect-"

"If, in a month or so, you feel like explaining, you will let us know, won't you?" said Ron irritably.

"All right," said Hermione coldly. "What we'd need to do is to get inside the Slytherin common room and ask Malfoy a few questions with him realizing it's us."

"But that's impossible," Harry said as Ron laughed.

"No, it's not," said Hermione. "All we'd need would be some Polyjuice Potion."

"What's that?" said Ron and Harry together.

"Snape mentioned it in class a few weeks ago-"

"D'you think we've got nothing better to do in Potions than listen to Snape?" muttered Ron.

"It transforms you into somebody else. Think about it! We could change into three of the Slytherin's. No one would know it was us. Malfoy would probably tell us anything. He's probably boasting about it in the Slytherin common room right now, if only we could hear him."

"This Polyjuice stuff sounds a bit dodgy to me," said Ron, frowning. "What if we were stuck looking like three of the Slytherin's forever?"

"It wears off after a while," said Hermione, waving her hand impatiently. "But getting hold of the recipe will be very difficult. Snape said it was in a book called _Moste Potente Potions_ and it's bound to be in the Restricted Section of the library."

There was only one way to get out a book from the Restricted Section: You needed a signed note of permissions for a teacher. "Hard to see why we'd want the book, really," said Ron, "if we weren't going to try and make one of the potions."

"I think," said Hermione, "that if we made it sound as though we were just interested in the theory, we might stand a chance…."

"Oh, come one, no teacher's going to fall for that," said Ron. "They'd have to be really thick..."

* * *

For Draco's first Quidditch game he had insisted that his year of Slytherin's all go and watch him play. Though Daphne and Sybil had planned on spending the day together, they reluctantly accepted and were dragged onto the Quidditch stands by Draco. For his first game, he was anything but nervous. In fact, he seemed even more egotistical than usual.

It was a cold October's day, and when Sybil stepped outside into the bitter winds she realised just how much rather she would be curled up on her bed by the heating listening to the radio. The wind that Saturday was the sort that could stab you like a thousand knives if you caught it in the wrong position. Sybil drew her scarf up just below her eyes, pulled herself closer into her body and started chattering her teeth. Draco, on the other hand, wearing nothing more than a green knitted sweater and a devilish grin seemed completely oblivious to the horrific weather.

"Just wait until we get in the air," Draco began. "That will wipe the smirk off Potter's face once and for all."

"Or you could knock 'im off 'is broom," Crabbe suggested, wearing as many layers as Sybil to prevent the cold from reaching him, but the layers made him look twice as thick.

Draco separated from them at the stands and the group of Slytherin's went to go and find somewhere to watch the game. They were stood waiting for ten minutes until the Gryffindor's – dressed in red – and the Slytherin's – all dressed in green knit sweaters, carrying fancy Nimbus Two-Thousand-and-One's over their shoulders. The two team captains shook hands for a rather long time, and then turned their backs.

After the longest twenty minutes of her life, Sybil was greatly relieved when Harry caught the snitch. He deserved it, she thought, because for the entire game he had to deal with a bludger flying towards him and perusing him. Almost instantly after the whistle blew to signal that the game was over, Daphne grabbed Sybil's arm and the girls marched as quickly as they could from the stadium.

Once inside, they took off their coats and jumpers, scarves and gloves and threw themselves in their usual places by the fire. They threw their coats on the floor in front of it, where more garments were added from Crabbe and Goyle and later, Draco, who was ballistic at Gryffindor's triumph.

"At least Lockhart fucked up his arm though," Sybil offered with a smile. "Crabbe told you; you should have knocked him off his broom."

"I thought that bludger was going to do it for me."

Sybil gawped. "That was you?"

Horror stricken: "No! I think I could think of a better way to kill Potter than set a rogue bludger on him in a Quidditch match."

"Like open the Chamber of Secrets?" Goyle offered.

Draco snarled at him. "I've told you this Goyle: I did not open the Chamber of Secrets. It's Potter for all I know – or Sybil; she was found with the Mudblood, Weasley and Potter when we all got there."

"Why would _I _open the Chamber of Secrets?" She shrilled. "Why would I want to kill Mrs. Norris?"

"She's not dead you idiot," Draco spat, and he stopped standing in front of the fire and kicked Crabbe out of his arm chair. "She's been petrified. Don't you listen to what people say? I thought you liked to gossip."

"I gossip about _interesting _stuff – not about the fate of a cat. I couldn't give a shit about this Chamber of Secrets that everybody's talking about. I'm more interested in you losing the Quidditch game."

"I only lost because that bloody bludger tried to kill me. Potter can't win every game he plays – next time around he better be ready; I'll beat him to the snitch."

"You could have cursed him,"

"Believe me," Draco smirked. "Next time I'll do more than curse him; I'll scare the life out of him."

And Draco stuck true to that vow, because on the night that Draco had lost the Quidditch game to Harry, Colin Creevey had been petrified. In consequence, almost one month after the attack, Professor Lockhart thought that it would be a good idea to start a Duelling Club – but on the afternoon before that, Harry, Ron and Hermione had some scheming to do.

The task to get the final ingredients in Potions and to get a hair from Sybil was all depending on how well that one Potions lesson went.

They were making swelling potions, and Harry's was far too runny but he had his mind on more important things. He was waiting for Hermione's signal, and he hardly listened as Snape paused to sneer as his watery potion. When Snape turned and walked off to bully Neville, Hermione caught Harry's eye and nodded.

Harry ducked swiftly down behind his cauldron, pulled one of Fred's Filibuster fireworks out of his pocket, and gave it a quick prod with his wand. The firework began to fizz and sputter. Knowing he had only seconds, Harry straightened up, took aim, and lobbed it into the air; it landed right on target in Goyle's cauldron. Goyle's potion exploded, showering the whole class. People shrieked as splashes of the Swelling Solution hit them. Malfoy got a face full and his nose began to swell like a balloon; Goyle blundered around, his hands over his eyes, which had expanded to the size of a dinner plate - Snape was trying to restore calm and find out what had happened. Through the confusion, Harry saw Hermione slip quietly into Snape's office.

"Silence! SILENCE!" Snape roared. "Anyone who had been splashed, come here for a Deflating Draft-when I find out who did this-"

Harry tried not to laugh as he watched Malfoy hurry forward, his head drooping with the weight of a nose like a small melon.

As half the class lumbered up to Snape's desk, some weighted down with arms like clubs, others unable to talk through gigantic puffed-up lips, Harry saw Hermione slide back into the dungeon, the front of her robes bulging.

Sybil had been splashed, but it had only gone down the front of her robes, but she rushed to the front never the less. Ron followed after her and stood closely to her in the line. He raised a hand, grabbed a chunk of her hair, ensured he had at least one strand of hair (he had about twenty) before she turned on him.

"Weasley!" She yelled. "Get off me!"

"I tripped," Ron mumbled. "My feet..." He looked down at his normal sized feet. "Some potion exploded on them."

"Just watch yourself," she advised. "Or it won't just be Mudbloods the Heir's attacking."

And before she could say another word, she barged in front of the other students to get the next dose of potion. Ron – who was tempted to whip out his wand and curse her, ended up verbally cursing her and returned to his table.

"Did you get her hair?" Hermione asked anxiously.

Ron passed her the dark locks. "She definitely knows who the Heir of Slytherin is," said Ron, "she speaks about him like they're friends."

"Which is more evidence that the Heir _is_ Malfoy," Harry said in an undertone, "did Sybil say anything else?"

Ron glanced behind his shoulder at Sybil and the other Slytherin's and slowly shook his head. "No, no that's all."

So at eight o'clock that evening they hurried back to the Great Hall. The long dining tables had vanished and a golden stage had appeared along one wall, lit by thousands of candles floating overhead. The ceiling was velvety black once more and most of the school seemed to be packed beneath it, all carrying their wands and looking excited.

"Do you think Professor Snape will be teaching us?" Daphne whispered to Sybil who was only there by request of her friend.

"Probably, but Dad says Flitwick was good at duelling when he was younger, so it might be him."

In the end, it was Gilderoy Lockhart who would be coaching them. He was walking onto the stage, magnificent in robes of deep plum and accompanied by none other than Snape, wearing his usual black. Lockhart waved an arm for silence and called, "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent! Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permissions to start this little duelling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions - for full details, see my published works. Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile. "He tells me he knows a tiny bit about duelling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry - you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!"

"I hope they're not teaching us the sort of duelling Snape used to do," Sybil whispered in Daphne's ear. They were stood directly under Snape whom they had never seen look angrier. "Because if they do we won't need Slytherin's monster to kill us; we'll be doing it ourselves."

When Daphne giggled, Professor Snape looked down at the two girls with the same expression of venom on his face he had treated Lockhart to. "Rosier, detention tonight. You can write lines."

Suspecting he had overheard her, she stared down at the floor and Daphne elbowed her. "You need to stop being horrid sometimes," she suggested.

"I know," Sybil grinned. "But I just love it so much."

Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands, whereas Snape jerked his head irritably. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them.

"As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart told the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."

"One-two-three-"

Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent; Snape cried: _"Expelliarmus!"_There was dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet: He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor.

The Slytherin's cheered. Lockhart was getting unsteadily to his feet. His hat had fallen off and his wavy hair was standing on end.

"Well, there you have it!" he said, tottering back onto the platform. "That was a Disarming Charm - as you see, I've lost my wand - ah, thank you, Miss Brown - yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy-however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see..."

Snape was looking murderous. Possibly Lockhart had noticed, because he said, "Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me-"

They moved through the crowd, matching up partners. Lockhart paired up Crabbe and Goyle and Blaise and Theodore, he moved onto a group of girl's at the back, so it was Snape's task to pair the girl's up.

"Greengrass with Davies. Bulstrode with Granger over there. Parkinson you can go with Patil and Rosier... Bell."

"Who's Bell?" She asked.

Snape looked over at the group of girl's Lockhart was chatting to. "See the one with brown hair?"

"Five of them have brown hair, Professor."

He glared back at her. "Ask them yourself."

So Sybil wandered over to the group of girl's, and when she reached Lockhart's side, he threw an arm around her shoulder and grinned at her. "Who's Professor Snape partnered you up with, eh? I've taught these girls in my lesson Miss. Rosier, and they're all very good duellers – but bear in mind, Miss. Rosier may be younger than you, but she took out _five_ people in my class! Five – can you imagine that? And she's only what – twelve?"

"Thirteen," Sybil corrected.

"Thirteen! Wow – so who's going to be your victim – _uh_, duelling partner?"

The girl's laughed but Sybil wore no expression of satisfaction. "Bell."

Bell turned out to be Gryffindor third year Katie Bell who was the Chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. She was a pretty girl, quite tall and slim with dark eyes. "That's me. I'm Katie."

"Good for you to get to know each other!" Lockhart cheered, and then he paired the other girl's in the group and Katie watched on in envy.

"You can go with them if you'd like," Sybil offered. "Join a three. I don't want to do this."

"It might be fun," Katie smiled her perfect, toothy smile with annoying optimism.

"Probably not."

"Face you partners!" called Lockhart, back on the platform. "And bow! Wands at the ready! When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents-_only_to disarm them-we don't want any accidents-one...two...three-"

Katie and Sybil both fired spells at each other, but they both missed. Katie's hit a fourth year square in the back and Sybil's didn't seem to aim anywhere. If Katie had realised she had hexed Cedric Diggory – the fourth year Hufflepuff Quidditch player – she would have gone to see if he was okay. But their attentions were drawn to various scuffles across the room.

A haze of greenish smoke was hovering over the scene. Both Neville and Justin were lying on the floor, panting; Ron was holding up an ashen-faced Seamus, apologizing for whatever his broken wand had done; but Hermione and Millicent Bulstrode were still moving; Millicent had Hermione in a headlock and Hermione was whimpering in pain; both their wands lay forgotten on the floor. Harry leapt forward and pulled Millicent off. It was difficult: She was a lot bigger than he was.

"Dear, dear," said Lockhart, skittering through the crowd, looking at the aftermath of the duels. "Up you go, Macmillan... Careful there, Miss Fawcett... Pinch it hard, it'll stop bleeding in a second, Boot-

"I think I'd better teach you how to _block_unfriendly spells," said Lockhart, standing flustered in the midst of the hall.

"Your year are horrible to each other!" Katie grimaced.

"Yeah," said Sybil, "none of us like anyone."

Lockhart glanced at Snape, whose black eye glinted, and looked quickly away. "Let's have a volunteer pair-Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you-"

"A bad idea, Professor Lockhart," said Snape, gliding over like a large and malevolent bat. "Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending what's left of Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a matchbox." Neville's round, pink face went pinker.

"How about Malfoy and Potter?" said Snape with a twisted smile.

"Excellent idea!" said Lockhart, gesturing Harry and Malfoy into the middle of the hall as the crowd backed away to give them room.

"Now, Harry," said Lockhart. "When Draco pointed his wand at you, you do _this._"He raised his own wand, attempted a complicated sort of wiggling action, and dropped smirked as Lockhart quickly picked it up, saying, "Whoops-my wand is a little overexcited-"

Snape moved closer to Malfoy, bent down, and whispered something in his ear. Malfoy smirked, looked up nervously at Lockhart and said, "Professor, could you show me that blocking thing again?"

"Scared?" muttered Malfoy, so that Lockhart couldn't hear him.

"You wish," said Harry out of the corner of his mouth.

Lockhart cuffed Harry merrily on the shoulder. "Just do what I did, Harry!"

"What, drop my wand?"

But Lockhart wasn't listening."Three-two-one-go!" he shouted.

Malfoy raised his wand quickly and bellowed, "_Serpensortia!_"

The end of his wand exploded. Harry watched, aghast, as a long, black snake shot out of it, fell heavily onto the floor between them, and raised itself, ready to were screams as the crowd backed swiftly away, clearing the floor.

"Don't move, Potter," said Snape lazily, clearly enjoying the sight of Harry standing motionless, eye to eye with the angry snake. "I'll get rid of it..."

"Allow me!" shouted Lockhart.

He brandished his wand at the snake and there was a loud band; the snake, instead of vanishing, flew ten feet into the air and fell back to the floor with a loud smack. Enraged, hissing furiously, it slithered straight toward Justin Finch-Fletchley and raised itself again, fangs exposed, poised to strike.

He looked up at Justin, grinning, expecting to see Justin looking relieved, or puzzled, or even grateful-but certainly not angry and scared.

"What do you think you're playing at?" he shouted, and before Harry could say anything, Justin had turned and stormed out of the hall.

Snape stepped forward, waved his wand, and the snake vanished in a small puff of black smoke. Snape, too, was looking at Harry in and unexpected way: It was shrewd and calculating look, and Harry didn't like it.

He was dragged away by Ron and Hermione, and they rushed out of the Great Hall like Justin had. Sybil edged her way closer to Daphne, who had tears stinging her eyes and nursing a wounded forehead.

"I'm pleased you got me to come!" Sybil said delighted.

But Daphne, however, looked miserably angry. "How could you? You insulted a Professor and got detention – you hexed a fourth year and you didn't even apologise! Justin almost got attacked by a snake and my head hurts!"

"It was Katie who hexed Diggory, not me," Sybil excused.

The best friends stared each other out, and when tears rolled out of Daphne's eye, Sybil didn't know what to do. "You're such a horrid best friend Sybil," Daphne sobbed. "You don't care about anyone else but yourself! You leave me when Blaise comes along and you never tell me anything! You're such a nasty person, Sybil – you're – you're a bitch!"

And with her hands covering her face, Daphne ran into the crowd of departing students and moved away from Sybil. Sybil – who had never really had a close friend like Daphne before, thought of nothing else to do but go after her. Snape – who had seen her leave, called out her name and caught her in the Entrance Hall.

"You have detention, Rosier."

Sybil was desperate. "Oh please Professor – can't I do it tomorrow?"

"Why should I let you do that?"

Sybil knew it wasn't a reason that would excuse her from detention, but she tried it anyway. "Because I'm a shit friend to Daphne and now she's crying about it."

Snape considered her, and then said. "For your vulgar mouth you can have tomorrow in detention with me, like you offered and an extra hour tonight. Come along."

He strode past her, and Sybil was left staring after him, nonplussed and aggravated.

* * *

Hermione Granger had been spending a lot of time in the library, recently. The thirteen-year-old girl just knew that Mrs. Norris being petrified, and Colin Creevey and, recently, Justin Finch-Fletchley and the chamber of secrets all had something to do with Harry hearing the voices and being able to talk to snakes. Surely this wasn't a coincidence, right? But no amount of researching in books or asking Professor's could find her the answer. They were really relying on the Polyjuice Potion.

Harry and Ron weren't helping her much; Harry had too many Quidditch practices what with Malfoy being the new Slytherin seeker and the entirety of the Slytherin team now owning Nimbus 2001's, there was little time for any work to be done. She should give up, but there was a part of her inside just _begging_ to keep going. Unfortunately, that small part always won.

She was about to resign for the night and return to the common room before she found someone who might be able to help her. Hermione grabbed her books and walked down the aisle Sybil had just gone down. The Gryffindor stood by Sybil's side until the latter focused her attention.

"What do you want, Granger?" Sybil sighed, scanning the spines of books.

Hermione tightened her grip on the leather-bound book she had in her hand. "I wanted to ask you something about Harry."

"Go ahead, but if you expect me to help you without something in return you can fuck off."

The muggle-born winced at her vulgar language. "Has Harry ever had past experiences with snakes?"

"I'll tell you if you give me five galleons."

"You have enough money as it is, Sybil," Hermione reminded.

Sybil eyed Hermione. "Well, clearly, you don't."

Blushing: "Well-Well has he?"

"W-W-Well h-h-has h-h-he what, Granger? I have better things to be doing than listen to your whining all night."

"Like planning to petrify the Muggle Borns?" She asked bravely.

Sybil looked at Hermione with all the vulgar – and more – Hermione looked at her with before. "Trust me Granger, if I knew who the person was who was petrifying these people, I wouldn't let them petrify a cat."

"Because you're such an animal lover?"

"Because there are _better_ people to petrify," then she eyed Hermione again for the third time. "Creevey and Finch-Fletchley, what have they ever done to me? They're all linked with Harry, so if you're looking for clues about me or my friends being the Heir of Slytherin, you should look a bit closer to home or you'll be next, Granger."

"Has Harry ever talked to snakes before?" Hermione echoed.

"Not that I know of," Sybil replied and snatched the book Hermione was holding. "Thanks for the book Granger; Draco's been looking for it all week. But I better not tell him you had it; if he burns it then I can't use it."

She turned her back on Hermione and paraded away. Sybil barged into Harry's shoulder on her way as he arrived from Quidditch practice looking hot and sweaty. He stared after Sybil and walked to Hermione.

"What just happened?" Harry inquired.

Hermione hugged the book in her arm. "Sybil's turning into Malfoy. She just told me that Draco's been looking for some book all week and that she won't tell Malfoy that I've just used it because 'if he burns it then I can't use it'."

The boy didn't know quite what to believe. "I'll talk to her and make her apologise."

"No, don't," said Hermione, "If Malfoy finds out he'll be running to protect her - I don't think you want to end up like Ron, throwing up a load of slugs, do you?"

"I'd barf a thousand slugs if it meant sticking up for you." She flushed and looked down. "Have you looked at the potion recently?" By potion, he meant the Polyjuice Potion they were brewing in the girl's bathroom in the abandoned girl's bathroom. Hermione replied that she hadn't. "We need to hurry up; Malfoy set the monster on Justin just a few weeks ago – who's going to be next? When will it be ready?"

"Christmas. The holiday's would be a better time to get a confession out of him. I heard him say to Goyle in Potions that he's staying for Christmas and that Crabbe and Goyle are, too. They can be your disguise."

"And who will you be?" Harry asked.

"I have a hair from Millicent Bulstrode, but she and Draco aren't very close. I could always go as Sybil because Ron stole her hair, but if I go as Sybil, it means-"

"-That you could possibly end up snogging Malfoy?"

Hermione cringed. "Yes, it's easy to outsmart Crabbe and Goyle. Sybil's not book-smart, but she's street-smart. It might be hard turning into her."

"She'll go home for Christmas in a fortnight, we'll make an excuse up then," said Harry.

"Let's just hope it's not too late."


	25. The Malfoy Curse

**A.N. **This is it guys... The moment you've all been waiting for and I'm, like, REALLY NERVOUSon your opinions of the revelation, so please, please, please tell me through **review **or inbox what you think!

* * *

When Draco discovered the news that Hermione Granger was in the Hospital Wing, curtains drawn around her and Madam Pomfrey refusing visitors, he couldn't have been happier. Believing her to be petrified, he had never been so in awe of any other person in his life. However, when she was released at the beginning of February with absolutely no evidence that she had been attacked, Draco had remained in a foul mood for the day.

Another day Draco was very sour on, was Valentine's Day. When Draco arrived in the Great Hall that morning, he was disgusted by what Hogwarts had come to. The walls were covered in pink, vicarious decorative pieces. Pink and red heart-shaped confetti fell from the ceiling. It was obvious that it was Lockhart's doing; he was dressed head to toe in bright pink dress robes. Everybody else wore their normal cloaks and sullen expressions.

Not to mention, that when Draco walked in he was swarmed by ugly, half-naked dwarves with white wings and golden harps, giving out cards and presents to students. Draco joined his year at the Slytherin table. The girl's were giggling at the dwarves and even the boy's spirits seemed to have been lifted.

"This is disgusting," Draco commented, staring stonily around the room. "Father _will _hear about this."

"Oh shut up and eat some breakfast," Blaise suggested. "When you get a card, you'll change your mind."

Draco noticed three cards by Blaise. Sourly, and also taking Blaise's advice and having some toast, asked: "And who sent _you_ cards? Was it Nott? Are you two finally announcing your wedding?"

But Blaise ignored Draco's comments and reported: "Eloise Midgeon, Millicent Bulstrode and Katie Bell."

"Needless to say if they sent Blaise a card they're unattractive," Theodore noted. "Who's Katie Bell?"

"The Gryffindor chaser," said Draco.

Blaise turned around to the Gryffindor table, scanning for the Gryffindor chaser Draco had mentioned. "What does she look like?"

"She's not hideous," said Draco, "but there are better."

"What, like Parkinson?" Theodore sniggered.

"What about Parkinson?" Draco asked.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Come on, like you haven't noticed: she's practically in love with you!"

Draco looked across the table to where Pansy was giggling at something. Then Draco looked away, feeling repulsed. "I'd take Bell over Parkinson any day – and I don't see _you_ with any cards, Nott. Don't tell me you sent any."

"No," Theodore said, "and any girl who sent me a card would get it ripped up and thrown in the fire."

"Harsh," Blaise noted.

"Truthful."

Draco looked back at the five girls in his year whom were eating breakfast. He noticed that none of them had cards, and he pointed that out to Blaise, who said: "They've been giving cards out for a while and no one knew about it. I think Daphne had a few given to her – as well as Davies."

"Davies got a card?" Draco laughed. "What about Potter?"

Harry did receive a card by the end of the day: by Ginny Weasley, who Draco had, the honour of witnessing it being sung to him. The reason Draco heard the card being sung, was because Harry's bag had split open. Noticing a diary, Draco snatched it off the floor and was showing it to Crabbe and Goyle.

"Wonder what Potter's written in this?" said Malfoy, who obviously hadn't noticed the year on the cover and thought he had Harry's own diary. A hush fell over the onlookers. Ginny Weasley was staring from the diary to Harry, looking terrified.

"Hand it over, Malfoy," said Percy Weasley sternly.

"When I've had a look," said Malfoy, waving the diary tauntingly at Harry.

Percy said, "As a school prefect —" but Harry had lost his temper. He pulled out his wand and shouted, "Expelliarmus!" and just as Snape had disarmed Lockhart, so Malfoy found the diary shooting out of his hand into the air. Ron, grinning broadly, caught it.

Draco was looking furious, and as Ginny passed him to enter her classroom, he yelled spitefully after her, "I don't think Potter liked your valentine much!"

* * *

Helena Rosier stumbled into work one morning, sporting a new red maternity dress Lily had brought her from a shop that was near her home town. It was a lovely one, and Helena wore it with such pride. She had a feeling that today wasn't going to go well. Helena wasn't sure why she felt it when she woke up that morning, but when she opened the curtains in the morning and the rain was worse than it ever had been in February before, that was her first omen. And then the baby had started moving around in Helena's belly, making her uncomfortable and that put her in a sour mood. Then she had a row with Castor about his latest school trip and he had screamed: 'I HATE YOU' at her which made her feel miserable. So she had worn the dress to cheer herself up a bit. She did her make up in the mirror, listening to Sybil's favourite radio station (only because Helena was unsure how to change the station without breaking it) went downstairs to kiss Sirius goodbye and left for work to find the rest of her co-workers looking morose and piling around Lucius Malfoy's separate office. Helena hung her coat over the back of her chair and put her handbag down beside it before she went to enquire what was occurring.

She asked Arnie Merwin – a man in his sixties with dark hair, who was second in command on the Hogwarts Governing Board after Lucius Malfoy. He was looking as worried as the rest of them, which could not be a good thing.

"What's happening?" Helena whispered to Arnie.

Arnie looked shocked to see Helena. He looked at her like he had not seen her in four years and she had just jumped out of a bush at him. "Mr. Malfoy called Wilkins into his office half an hour ago and she was crying. Then he called in Pescatore and he looked like he was having a fit. Now Watson's in there and... No one will say what's going on."

Helena was stunned. "Shouldn't we tell someone?"

"Who?"

That was a good point; Lucius was the man in charge, so who could they tell? Helena joined her disgruntled co-workers and when Lucius Malfoy opened the door everyone – including Helena who had just arrived – jumped out of their skin. Vince Watson emerged from Malfoy's office looking angrier than anything and stormed out, cursing his name when he left. Malfoy kept it professional and scanned the work force on who to bring in next. Then his eyes fell on Helena.

"Rosier, a word in my office?"

She took a sharp, intake of breath and pulled herself from the wall. When she walked through the crowd of Witches and Wizards, they all gave her sympathetic looks. She'd have hated to be the last one there.

He held the door open for her and she walked in. Lucius had a small and bare office, with an oak desk and two uncomfortable, matching oak chairs adjacent to it. Lucius would occupy the black, comfortable chair behind the desk that everything was towards. Apart from one thing, Helena noted, that was towards the person sitting in the two uncomfortable chairs. As Helena struggled to sit down, clutching

"I remember the last time I saw you pregnant," Lucius recollected "That was the day you took our dear and sweet Sybil away."

"She's not _your_ dear and sweet anything Malfoy," she growled. "Now what do you want? Everyone's so miserable you would have thought someone died."

"You shouldn't speak to your superiors like that," Lucius warned.

"Superiors? If you're talking about blood, Malfoy, I'm as much of a Pure Blood as you."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Does blood status matter to _you_ Helena?"

"Of course not," Helena said, "though I know it matters a great deal to you."

He smiled at her with disdain. "Would you like something to drink? Coffee or tea – or perhaps something stronger."

"I'm pregnant, Malfoy, and I'll have a tea," he prompted her to use her manners. "I'll have a tea, _please_. Milk, no sugar."

"Because you're sweet enough?"

She did not like his attempt at a joke, so didn't respond. With a wave of his wand, he summoned a tea pot and poured Helena a mug of tea. He added the milk and it was served to her on a pretty, matching saucer. Helena barely said a word and drank it through pursed lips. Then Lucius banished the tea pot back to the table by his tall collection of books, lined together on an oak bookcase.

He returned his conversation to Sybil. "Draco says Sybil has a lot of admirers in Hogwarts. Did she tell you that?"

No, she had not told her that. To delay herself, Helena raised her spoon and began to stir her tea. After a length silence she returned: "No she has not."

"She's a very beautiful girl," Lucius continued, pouring himself his own cup of tea but his own contained sugar. "She must have got it from her father."

She scowled at him. "You do flatter yourself, Lucius. I feel sorry for your wife: having to put up with you through night and day. I'm surprised she didn't throw herself off your Manor roof when Draco went to Hogwarts and she was trapped into conversation with you."

"Narcissa loves me," Lucius remarked. "Do you love Sirius?"

"Of course I do," was her immediate lie.

"Does he love Sybil?"

"Of course he does."

"Does he love Sybil more than her Father did?"

"That's un-doubtable," Helena raised her voice. "He only '_loved_' her to spite me."

"He never wanted to love Sybil, but he did what he had to do to protect his family name. What would have happened if word got out, that a daughter of Malfoy was living in a grubby Muggle flat? Well we would no longer be a well-respected family."

"You lost your respect the moment he raped me."

"Yes," Lucius agreed with a smile. "Just when you lost yours."

Helena, who had attempted to take a sip of her tea, slammed it down on the crockery below. Lucius Malfoy was the man she hated more than any other who was alive. When Lucius had got the job as Head of the Hogwarts Governing Committee, she had begged Albus to give the job to somebody else. Then she had threatened to leave, but then that would leave her without a job and a newborn baby Castor to look after. Lucius knew that Helena couldn't leave, so he treated her like scum. He made her feel like scum. All the while, he had her daughter living in his home, and if Helena dared do anything, she knew, without Lucius' threatening, that he would leave her for dead.

"I really hate you Lucius Malfoy, and you've been blackmailing me for twelve years."

"And what can you do about it?" Helena was silent. "Nothing. You really love your daughter, don't you?"

"Yes," Helena snarled.

Lucius' eyed fell on Helena's stomach. It was the stomach of a third trimester, and Helena put a hand over it protectively. "Who's the Father of this baby then?"

"Sirius Black: a good man."

"Of course it is," Lucius agreed, and then took a long sip of his drink. When he lowered it onto the saucer, with a deep, exhale of breath, said: "Try not to kill this one."

"I didn't kill him."

"You might as well have."

"He came for Sybil-"

"-He came for what is truly his! He loved his daughter, and if you even cared about her for one minute you would have realised that she was better with us than she ever could be with you and Black."

"Why should I have given him Sybil? He had no right to take her from in the first place! All you Malfoy's are exactly the same: you treat other people like common filth on the street when you're really exactly that: you're the scum of the earth."

"_She_ was a Malfoy before," Lucius smirked. "Or had you forgotten?"

Of course Helena had not forgotten. It pained her, every night when she was separated from Sybil who she was living with. They would introduce her as _Sybil Malfoy_ at parties, and when they asked about the mother they'd say she was a filthy prostitute – and they did exactly that. As a baby, she was probably sung to sleep by Death Eaters, the sound of Muggleborns being tortured was her lullaby and no one would come for her when she cried. _Sybil Malfoy_. It made her sick to the stomach when she evoked that name.

"Of course I hadn't forgotten, Malfoy," said Helena calmly.

"So you shouldn't use our name in vain; you shouldn't use your daughter's name in vain."

"My daughter is Sybil Josephine Rosier-"

"-Your daughter is Sybil Josephine _Malfoy_. Youngest daughter to the great and rich and powerful-"

"-Don't finish that-"

"Great and powerful Abraxas Malfoy."

Helena gasped, but it wasn't like it was a surprise to her, but she hadn't said his name in years. And why should she? He was from a dark period of her life. To Helena, his was the corpse she hated the most. He had ruined her life but blessed it simultaneously. When she said his name, the memory of Sybil's conception came flooding back. She was barely a child herself, going to meet Narcissa so they could go out for a few drinks. There had been no reply on the front door so she walked to the side of the house. He had been lurking there and pushed her against the wall. She had screamed but no one heard her. But it was over as soon as it started, and she ran from the house as quickly as she could.

"My little sister," Lucius continued. "How do you think our dear and sweet Sybil would take the news if she found out that her best friend is her Nephew?" He laughed at the sheer thought. "That the man she calls her Father is her cousin-in-law – and her little brother: her cousin-in-law also?"

Helena's breathing began to quicken, and she glared at Lucius and she tried to change the subject. "What do you want with me? You didn't come here just to taunt me."

"No, I didn't," he nodded his head to a sheet of parchment with four signatures on the paper. "Sign it."

_PETITION FOR THE REMOVAL OF RUBEUS HAGRID: HOGWARTS GAMESKEEPER_

_Lucius Malfoy  
Jessica Wilkins  
Lorenzo Pescatore  
Vince Watson_

Helena laughed and threw down the quill she had in her hand, preparing to sign the petition. "I'm not signing that, no way."

"I thought you might say that," Lucius smiled. "So I'll pose my question to you again: how do you think Sybil will take the news if she finds out the truth about us?"

"She wouldn't believe you," Helena said coolly.

"I think she'd come and find us."

"She wouldn't."

Lucius raised his eyebrows. "Do you honestly believe that? You should be aware then, that when Draco took Sybil round to ours when she went missing, that she very much enjoyed our company – and we very much enjoyed hers. I know Narcissa would let her live with us in a heartbeat; she loved Sybil just like my Father and I did-"

"-You didn't love Sybil."

"Draco did too. They got on so well together, we all thought so. We were going to have them married once our Draco turned seventeen: to keep the money and property and power within the family. Would you like Sybil to discover that, Helena? Because if she's anything like the Malfoy family – which, I am told to say she is, they won't she do anything to spite you? She'd marry Draco quicker than you can say: 'stop the wedding' if it would mean vengeance for you lying to her all these years. So I'll tell you once more, Helena: sign this petition."

She couldn't lose Sybil. No way in Merlin was she going to lose the daughter she fought most to keep. So she asked herself: _what would Sirius do_? He would have already signed the paper if it meant keeping her safe. He would have punched Lucius before that, probably, but he'd ensure her safety. So without looking at Lucius, she added her name to the bottom of the list.

"No one will ever love Sybil more than me," Helena informed as she put the quill down. "So don't try and tell me otherwise."

* * *

It had been ages since James, Sirius and Remus had spent a night together. They were having a pre-party for the birth of Sirius' baby, and using that as an excuse, the two men were allowed to go out on Friday night. Sirius had been hesitant to leave, because for the past five days Helena had been in a state of shock and distress. Terrified something was wrong with the baby, he was pleased to have got out the house and take his mind off things, but half an hour into the night his best friends knew that something was not right with Sirius, and they asked him what it was.

"On Monday she came back from work early, and she hasn't been back since. She's just stayed at home, trying to keep herself busy; last night she cooked enough food to feed the entire neighbourhood, and she's cleaned the home, top to bottom, and even offered to go back to flaming Grimmaulaud Place and give that a cleaning. Tell me I'm just being dramatic."

"You're just being dramatic," Remus consoled. "This time last year you were telling us that she was never at home, and now she's always at home and you're concerned? She's probably just hormonal from the baby – it's due in less than two months; that has to be stressful for her."

"But I think it might have something to do with Malfoy."

The three men were sat in a corner booth in The Three Broomsticks. Though it was nearly empty apart from three drunkards at the end of the bar, a young Witch and Wizard on the opposite table and the lovely Madam Rosmerta, that place was very quiet. However, to avoid that nobody was listening in, Sirius checked over the sides of the booth as precaution.

"You know that Hagrid's lost his job, don't you?"

"Harry told me," James said, "why would the Governors agree to this? Hagrid's would never open the Chamber of Secrets – what are they thinking?"

"Exactly," Sirius said, "Lucius is Head of the Governing Board, and Helena works for him. I think it's more of a coincidence that Helena comes home from work distressed on Monday afternoon and Hagrid loses his job Tuesday night."

"You think Lucius has said something about Abraxas?" Remus whispered.

"Helena wouldn't sign for Hagrid to be fired for no reason," James sided. "What are you going to do? Are you going to go round there?"

"Are you mental? He can't do that!"

"I can't," Sirius agreed. "He treats Helena like shit at work but she can't do anything in case he tells Sybil."

"If you told Sybil this could all be prevented-"

"-You don't think I've tried telling Helena that, James?" Sirius snapped. "I want to tell her, we've all agreed that we should tell her but Helena can't bear to hear the truth. I think, that if she admits the truth to Sybil it means she'll be admitting that it's true to herself. If Lily was raped – Merlin hopes she never will – and Harry's not your kid, would you want to tell him who his Dad is, just to get it out of the way?"

James nodded. "Absolutely."

"But would Lily?"

He paused. "Probably not."

Sirius took a sip of his Maple Cider, smacked his lips and said: "Enough about me; there's nothing I can do about this. How are you and Lily bearing with the Chamber of Secrets? Helena checks the Daily Prophet every day in case there are news of any other attacks. Remus, you're lucky Callie's not at Hogwarts at the moment or you'll be worried out of your mind."

"I always worry about Callie. Sirius, _you're_ lucky _you're_ not a Werewolf and have to worry about attacking one of your children."

Missing the annoyance, Sirius said: "I miss Full Moon."

"I don't."

"How about the three of us get together sometime? I know _I've_ missed turning into Padfoot. I haven't done it since we were together; Helena doesn't like the animals – including the dogs – in the house."

"I haven't been Prongs," James admitted with a smile. "There's been no need."

"Well I'm Moony every month, and I don't miss it."

"It must be easier with the Wolfsbane Potion, though?" James prompted. "And when Callie's at Hogwarts you won't have to worry about hurting her. You must have been relieved when she got the letter."

"Relieved?" Remus echoed. "And send her to a school where the Chamber of Secrets has been opened and some monster is attacking children? If it's still open by September next year then she's not going; I'm not having her in danger there."

"Sybil and Harry are still there and they're fine," Sirius said. "I'm still sending Castor – James is still sending Jacob. Hogwarts is the safest place, Remus, and Callie's not going to thank you for not letting her go. Where will she go instead of Hogwarts? Are you going to send her to Beauxbatons, where she can't even speak the language? Or Durmstrang, which is on the other side of the world? If she's at Hogwarts, she's familiar with everything and everybody and she'll be safe."

"My daughter has never been safe," Remus informed.

"If I can let Harry go to Hogwarts again, and he was attacked last year, then you can let Callie go, too. What would the monster of Slytherin want with a first year, anyway?"

"What did it want with the boy from Harry's year, or the first year? What did it want with a cat?"

"Harry's been attacked a lot," Sirius reasoned. "In first-year it was a three-headed-dog and Voldemort, and this year it's been flying a car, the Chamber of Slytherin, a rogue bludger and the snake at the duelling club, and James and Lily still let Harry go to Hogwarts-"

"-A snake at duelling club?" James interrupted, concerned. "Harry never told me about any snake _or_ any duelling club. Who told you?"

Sirius swallowed. "Sybil."

"Did she say anything else?"

He shook his head. "No."

Prongs cursed under his breath, downed the last dregs of his Maple Cider and got up. He put on his robes and marched out the door, almost crashing into Madam Rosmerta's latest customers: three middle-aged men not much older that the trio who had been there before. Sirius and Remus exchanged a look; Sirius sighed and took another sip of Cider and Remus did the same.

"I'll get the next ones in," Remus offered, taking the handles of Sirius, James' and his own tankards and carrying them to the bar, where a bored Rosmerta paused her conversation with the drunkards to serve Remus. She slapped her hands on her hips and served him. "What can I get for you boys?"

"Two Maple Cider's, please Rosmerta."

"Of course – that will be two sickles, please," Remus handed the money over and Rosmerta poured the drinks. "What happened to James? He left in a hurry."

When James, Sirius and Remus were still in Hogwarts – along with their old friend Peter Pettigrew – they would sneak out of the castle some nights and drink with Rosmerta in her bar. Three of them: James, Remus and Peter, would return to Hogwarts, Sirius, on the other hand, would stay with Rosmerta in her bed some nights. Once or twice it was James who stayed with her. Never Remus or Peter.

She was a beautiful woman and could only have been five or six years older than the men. Rosmerta had curly blonde which fell just above her shoulders and an hourglass figure. She had been popular amongst the Hogwarts boys whilst Remus was in school, he recalled, and teenage boys would very often lean against the bar, shamelessly chatting her up. She took it all in good stride, but her favourite was Sirius by far. Perhaps that was why Sirius always insisted on Remus or James ordering the drinks whenever they entered the bar on those rare occasions that they did.

Grinning, Remus said: "He had to get home."

"He's still married to Lily, isn't he?" Remus confirmed that he was, and Rosmerta gave a happy sigh. "I remember the countless afternoons he'd spend whining and longing about her – and the amount of times he'd ask me to send her over 'romantic' themed foods. Finally got her then, eh – _and_ managed to keep her. Can't say that about many blokes. Is Sirius married?"

"Uh, no," Remus said, "but he's got a girlfriend."

"Oh right," said Rosmerta amused, and she leaned over the side of the bar to Remus. One thing she was well-known for was wearing revealing clothes showing her cleavage, and when she leaned over, every man's head in the bar turned her way, and one of the drunkards cat-called. Rosmerta ignored them and continued her conversation with Remus. "How long's this one been around for?"

"Ten years."

Rosmerta was surprised. "And he hasn't put a ring on her finger yet? I'm agog."

"They have a son together – and she's pregnant with his second."

"I can't imagine Sirius Black with two children."

"Three; Helena had one before she met Sirius. That's Helena Rosier, Evan Rosier's sister, you might remember him from the time when-"

"-Sirius threatened to glass him when Rosier groped me? Yeah, I remember that," with a laugh, she turned around and gave Remus the drinks. "Keep 'em as a celebration drink for Sirius' new baby. So what about you then Remus, are you married – settled down with kids?"

"I have a daughter," Remus said.

Again, Rosmerta looked surprised. "And not a wife?"

"No."

"Girlfriend?"

Remus ran a hand on the back of his neck. "No."

"Where's the Mum?"

"She died," Remus said hoarsely, looking down at the wooden bar, "she died when she was born."

Rosmerta let out a low whistle. "Sorry about that. How long ago was it?"

"Eleven years."

"And you haven't been with anyone since?"

He shook his head. "No."

"You need a shag."

At that, Remus laughed, and he took the free drinks from Rosmerta, thanked her, and joined Sirius at the table. When he sat down, Sirius smirked and said: "You really do need a shag, Remus."

Remus clinked his glass with Sirius and took a sip. There were more truth in those words than he cared to admit.

* * *

Harry wondered what life would be like if Halloween had turned out differently. He wondered what would happen if his parents had died – who would he live with? Sirius, Harry automatically assumed, but then who? Harry had no other family, apart from an Aunt: Lily's sister Petunia who their families never had any contact with. Lily didn't even know where her sister lived, now, and for the first few years after Lily woke from her coma, she tried contacting her sister, but Petunia Dursley seemed adamant that she would not talk to her sister. That was what Harry had been told. He had been told other stories from his father about weddings and how disastrous they had turned out. James' stories made Harry want to meet his estranged Aunt, Uncle and Cousin even less.

He wondered how he would be, academically, also. Harry was certain that he would not be doing well in lessons at all, and that was saying something, because Harry wasn't doing well at all. He supposed Defense against the Dark Arts came easy to him, but while his Dad had been brilliant at Transfiguration, Harry was only mediocre at it. His Mum had been an expert in Potions – which he as abysmal at – and Charms, too, which Harry thought was one of his better lessons.

He wouldn't have met Sybil, either. Would Sirius have met Helena if James and Lily had died? It was strange, thinking that Sybil would just be another snobby Slytherin to him. Harry loved Sybil and he knew, deep down, she returned those feelings, too. Harry could not imagine a life with Sybil after Hogwarts, though, in friendship or romance. Though Harry knew Sybil still cared for him; she had stopped Malfoy from hexing him in the corridor just this week, she wouldn't be at a loss if they stopped talking after Hogwarts. They might see each other on occasions like Christmas, but that would be it. It was sad to think that, actually, that after spending thirteen years of their life together, it would be so easy to forget someone like that.

He had a better family than Sybil, but they both had one thing in common: their siblings and parents were the only family they saw. Harry knew that he would never meet his Aunt Petunia or his Uncle Vernon and his cousin with the funny name, and he didn't care; he had all the family he wanted in James, Lily, Jacob and through Sirius and Remus' family.

But it would be interesting, Harry thought, to see how Muggle lived.

He thought about all this when Professor Flitwick handed him his Charms essay. "Excellent work, Potter!"

Harry had received a ten out of ten, and what was most surprising, was that it was his third full marked essay in Charms that month, and Harry was thrilled. Hermione also got full marks, but Ron only got five. He had expected his mark, and shrugged it off, shoving the essay in his bag, crumpling it. Harry, on the other hand, neatly placed his essay and marks into his bag. He was going to show his parents this and make them proud.


	26. Isabelle Rose

Together, as the last piece of decoration for the Nursery, Helena and Sirius were figuring out where to hang up one of the two letters they had brought: _I_ and _A_. I for Isabelle, and A for Aria. Still, they had not figured out a name for the baby, but they had three weeks for that until she was due. That was plenty of time they figured.

They stood admiring the bedroom. In Sirius' hand he held the letter _I_, in Helena's she held _A_. Both were staring at the wall quizzically.

"I think I prefer the letter over the window," Helena mused, holding it up. "Actually, I think it would look better over the cot. Do you think the colours of the wall are right? Do you think we should have gone with Mellow Yellow instead of beige?"

"The yellow looks lovely, and so do you like the letter going over the cot instead of by the window. You see?" He pushed _I_ over the cot, then moved across the room to put it to the left, then the right of the window. Helena had to agree that it looked much better over the cot than by the window. "We only got the letters so we wouldn't forget her name."

"Do you like her name? Isabelle and Aria that is."

"Of course," Sirius smiled. "You wouldn't let her be called Ara like I suggested for the star, so you changed it to Aria which was a much better decision. Then you chose Isabelle."

"I chose the names Sirius, not you. That's the thing: do you like Isabelle and Aria or would you rather they be different? You offered Ara – would you rather her be called Ara or Anka or Electra?"

"Have you swallowed a star chart?"

"No I just remember them from Astronomy."

Sirius smiled. "We're not naming our daughter Electra or Anka or Ara. We're naming our daughter Isabelle or Aria because they are both names that you love."

She gave him a kiss on the lips and rested her head against his shoulder. "I think it looks better over the cot – pass me _A_ and I'll show you."

He did so and Helena stepped on the step ladder to prove that _A_ would look best hanging over the cot, but with one step up she doubled over in pain and grabbed her bulging belly.

Sirius immediately rushed to her aid and helped her off the step ladder. She was still clutching her stomach and screaming. "What is it – is it the baby?" Helena nodded. "Shall I get you to the Hospital?"

"How?" Helena cried. "I can't apparate or floo in this condition. Damn it Sirius!"

Three days before the baby was due, they were planning on staying at the Leaky Cauldron – a five minute walk away from the Hospital. Where they lived currently, however, was a forty-five minute _car_ drive to the Hospital.

"We'll get the Knight Bus."

"The _Knight Bus_?" Helena echoed in hysteretic. "Because all the bumping and shoving and getting slammed into walls and beds crushing you is a great way for a pregnant woman in _labour_ to travel to a Hospital. No, we're just going to have to get someone to drive us."

"Who?" Sirius cried. He guided Helena out of the Nursery and across the hall. "We don't know any neighbours who have cars! James is at work and he's got that important meeting. Hel, I'm sorry, but we're going to have to get the Knight Bus." She stared at him incredulously. "I'll cast a charm to keep anything from bashing into you, and we'll get there within minutes. Come on Hel, get onto the street."

"What about Cas?" Helena inquired as they took their first steps down the stairs.

"He'll come with us."

"It could be hours until the baby arrives. Oh Merlin... Is anyone at work?"

As his parents were having the day off, Castor thought that it was only fair that _he_ would have the day off, too. They called in sick for him, so now he was sat downstairs playing a game or out in the garden with the pets.

"I dunno – Remus' Dad might be teaching Callie again, but I don't want to stick a seventy-year-old with two children."

"He'll have to go round there."

Slowly and steadily – and in Helena's case, painfully, the couple descended down the stairs. Castor was in the Living Room and Sirius left Helena to put on her shoes when he went to tell Castor what was happening.

"Can't I go with you?" Castor asked at once.

"We don't know how long we'll be and we don't want you stuck in a Hospital with us. Go round to Remus and Callie's and tell them what's happened."

"What if they're not there?"

"Go to your Uncle James and Aunt Lily's," Sirius muttered impatiently, casting several glances back at Helena who was not putting on a packet and groaning and swearing in pain.

"And if they're not there?"

Sirius rubbed his forehead. "Come back here and try again later. I'll put a key underneath the door mat for you to let yourself in and you can try again later. I'm sorry Castor, but we never planned for the baby to be this early. You're going to have to explain what's happened and we'll tell you when your sister's arrived."

"Can I say bye to Mum?"

"Of course."

Castor rushed down the hallway, towards Helena and he wrapped his arms around her. Sirius couldn't hear what they were saying as he was fetching his wand from the Living Room, but whatever it was Castor had said it had made Helena laugh. Sirius didn't like to interrupt them but he had to get Helena to the Hospital.

"Be good," Helena advised. "Stay safe."

Castor walked with them to the end of the road but then turned left to go to the Lupin's. It wasn't a long walk, but Castor wished he was going to the Hospital with his parents. He didn't want to be stuck with Callie while his little sister was being born; he wanted to be there with his Mum and Dad to see this.

He hoped he'd get along with this sister better than his older one. Apparently, Castor and Sybil were once thick as thieves; Sybil adored her little brother and Castor idolized his big sister. Then it seemed almost overnight that that connection disappeared and they started to be vicious to one another. Castor would pull on Sybil's dark hair and Sybil would push Castor over and make him cry, which would annoy her even more and throw her toys at him. There wasn't much more than two years in between them, so it must have started when Castor was around three and Sybil five or six.

Sometimes they would get along, but Castor couldn't remember the last time he and Sybil had been nice to each other. Even over this previous Christmas they had to bite their tongues and be civil to one another – something that was impossible to Castor for the sake of their poor mother who was carrying their little sister, a little girl who was to be born into a world of terrible sibling rivalries.

Castor hoped for Isabelle or Aria's sake that she would be more like him or their father. Sybil was almost a clone of their mother but with more spite, but Castor put that down to a terrible father. He hoped Isabelle/Aria would be kind and thoughtful, liked playing Quidditch with her big brother and having fun. Sybil was never fun anymore.

Before he knew it, he was at the Lupin's house and tapped at their door. A minute later he knocked louder and then louder until a disgruntled Remus opened the door. He looked at Castor quizzically. "Why aren't you at school? Do your Mum and Dad know you're here?"

"They sent me," Castor muttered. "Mum's having the baby."

"Well that's good. Come inside." Castor complied and kicked his shoes off at the door. "Is your Mum alright? Is she healthy?"

"She was hurting – is it bad when a baby's born early? My sister's going to be... five weeks early?"

"Callie was born very early," Remus informed and lead Castor through to the Living Room. "But her Mum died, so that's not a good example to give. But your Mum's done it twice before and she's with professionals... She'll be fine. Are you looking forward to having another sister?"

"No," Castor grumbled.

"You'll _love_ her," promised Remus. "Have they decided on a name yet?"

"Isabelle."

Remus looked surprised. "I thought it was between Aria and Isabelle. I didn't know they'd decided already."

"Well, they haven't – but I like Isabelle but Sybil likes Aria. It's not fair if they name her Aria; Sybil always gets her own way."

"That's not true."

"Yes it is," Castor complained. "She's their favourite."

"Well she's not _my_ favourite," said Remus with a smile.

"You have to say that," said Castor, "you're my godfather."

"James prefers you. He doesn't like how Sybil talks to your Mum and Dad and how she takes your Dad for granted. He loves Sybil very much, like we all do, but you're your Dad's proper son, and that counts for something."

"You shouldn't say this. Mum and Dad would be angry."

Remus shook his head. "Why would he when we've said it to him hundreds of times."

"What, that you like me more?"

Remus pulled a constrained face. "Not in those words exactly, but more or less along the same lines."

Castor smiled with immense gratitude. "Thanks Uncle Remus, you're my favourite Uncle, you know? You always have time for me and you say nice things. Uncle James is cool, but with you I can tell you this stuff and you won't go blabbing to Dad – or Uncle James. Please don't tell him."

"I won't," Remus assured.

"Please don't tell Uncle James what?" Called Callie's voice as she descended the stairs. "What are you two hiding? Hey, why aren't you at school, Castor?"

"Mum's having the baby."

Callie looked delighted. "That's amazing! Oh wow, I've always wanted a little brother or sister."

Remus chose to ignore her. "You can have my big sister if you like."

Like Remus, Callie chose to ignore him.

Four hours with the Lupin's passed until Sirius arrived with the news that the baby had been born. Both mother and baby were fine, and that both of them could not wait to see Castor. So thanking Remus for looking after his son, Sirius put an arm around Castor and directed him towards the fireplace to travel to the Hospital and see his baby sister.

They were alone when he arrived: Helena and the baby. She looked tired and as pale as the sheets the baby was cocooned in. Her forehead was sweaty and her eyes red. The baby was making noises and stirring in Helena's arms, and she cooed at the baby while she did that. Helena looked like a normal mother, Castor realised, and not a lying one that went missing thrice a week.

"Come and say hello to your little sister, Castor," Helena instructed. "Come on, she won't bite."

Tentatively, Castor edged towards the bed. His mother arranged the blankets around his sister so that he could see her more clearly. Castor looked back on his father who was leaning against the doorway propped up by his elbow, proudly watching the scene before him take place. Then the new big brother looked down at the baby in his mother's arms.

She was so small. Castor couldn't believe just how little she was. She was awake, and her big blue eyes were gazing up at him and a smile crept onto her plump little face. She stirred in her blankets and formed – what Castor could only describe as a smile. She didn't have much hair, but she was blonde and she was perfect.

"Do you want to hold her?" Helena asked quietly.

Castor nodded without taking his eyes off the baby. He sat down on the bed and was gentle when she was passed to him in his arms. Frightened he was going to drop her he kept a firm grip on her then passed her back to Helena.

"Have you chosen Aria or Isabelle?" Castor asked once she had been taken from him, not wanting to ask the question and be distracted.

"Aria's an unusual name," Helena soothed. "There aren't many."

Glumly: "So you went with Sybil's choice? You chose Aria?"

"No," Sirius stated, making his way to his partner, son and newborn daughter. "We've gone with Isabelle."

The look of delight on Castor's face could not be hidden or disguised. "Really? You went with Isabelle."

"Aria just wasn't suitable," Helena claimed. "So she's Isabelle. Isabelle Rose."

Helena did not confirm a surname for their daughter. She had thought at first she could sneak Karkaroff onto the birth certificate, but that would give perhaps too much away. For now, she would have to be Isabelle Rose Rosier or Isabelle Rose Rosier-Black or even Isabelle Rose Black.

It was unfortunate timing that Igor would be away. A few weeks ago he announced to Helena he would be away for three months: March, April and May, and Helena couldn't help but feel that this 'trip' – that he never actually explained what it was, was more than just a coincidence that it fell on the date that the baby could be born on. He did not hide the fact that he wanted it to be a boy: an heir, so she had tried to persuade him that the potion could have been wrong and that it still _could_ be a boy. But now, Helena feared, Igor would not want anything to do with Helena or Isabelle, and it would be like with Sybil all over again. But that was what she deserved for deceiving her husband.

"She looks just like you when you were a baby," Sirius informed.

"She's blonde – why is she blonde?"

This was time for Helena to think fast on her feet, and she thought of a convincing lie. "It's all about DNA, the stuff that makes you unique. Your Dad or I must have DNA for blonde hair. It's nothing to worry about."

"I wasn't worried," Castor delivered.

"Good," Helena smiled and took her son's hand, resting Isabelle against her calves. "I'd hate for you to worry. Now, did you thank Uncle Remus for letting you stay? Oh Sirius, you must ask him to come and see the baby first thing tomorrow morning – and Callie, too and James and Lily."

"Anyone else?" Sirius smiled.

_Igor_. "Nope. That's it."

Helena had made more plans with Sirius about their baby than she had done with Igor. It occurred to Helena that Igor had avoided the topic of their daughter ever since Helena brought it up. Sometimes _he_ would be the one to mention her, but now Helena was under suspicion he only did so to keep her sweet. What had been his main motive for visiting her at Christmas apart from informing her that he was going to be away? Well, that was most likely to kill her suspicions of him not being committed.

"Sirius, will you take her please, I need to get some sleep," Helena advised. "Tell James and Lily and the others to come while I'm asleep, won't you? I don't want to talk to any of them at the moment."

"Why not?" Castor asked.

"I'm tired," Helena lied. "Please, just take her away. Mum needs to get some sleep – you two can look after Isabelle, can't you? Good. Get the others here while I'm sleeping, won't you. There's a good boy."

As she kissed her second daughter goodbye, her mind sped back almost thirteen years ago to the first time she held Sybil in her arms, and feared for looking after her:

Helena never predicted she could feel such a way about anyone, especially someone that she hated the idea of. But the little girl in her arms looked up at her, her bright blue eyes shining up at her and thick, black hair upon her little head. It had taken almost two days to release this child into the world, and she had done it alone, and now she would go on to raise this child in the world, all alone.

She really hadn't thought this through; how was she going to raise a child? She had no job, no money and barely enough food in her house to feed her. The baby in her arms had no clothes at home and not even a bed to call her own. The newborn wouldn't last two months with a mother like her.

But she was so beautiful, and Helena couldn't believe this moment had finally come. It was miraculous that Helena didn't hate this child like she hated the man who did this to her. For nine months she had thought of it as a curse, but now Helena considered this to be a blessing.

As soon as his niece had been born, Evan Rosier – Helena's younger brother – had ordered her to be taken out of this Hospital, full of disgusting Muggles and to be taken home – to _his_ home where they would be taken care of. Evan had little money, but he had his own ways of making some, as he told Helena when she arrived in his flat.

His flat was no better than hers. It was located above a dark shop in Knockturn Alley and stunk of cheap Muggle booze and perfume and cigarettes. The walls of his home were covered in dirt and peeling white paint. Some parts of the wall were so damaged you could see the foundations and feel a draught from the bitter air outside. The sofa was stained and the table covered in graffiti. It had only three rooms: a bedroom, the living area/kitchen and a stinky bathroom with no hot water and a toilet without function. Still, it was better than Helena's home which was merely a glorified prison cell with one bed, a microwave on a broken table, a cardboard box full of possessions and clothes and a sink and toilet. She'd take Evan's grubby flat over her rat infested room any day.

"Tomorrow morning you're going to work at Borgin and Burkes," Evan instructed, leading her around the dingy flat above the aforementioned shop, a fat cigar hanging out his mouth. "And you're gonna give the baby to me and I'm gonna get Narcissa to look after her-"

"-Are you crazy? I'm not having Narcissa _fucking_ Malfoy anywhere near my daughter. If _he_ finds out she's with her he's gonna go fucking nuts and he's gonna take her away from me. He's not taking my daughter away from me, Evan; he's taken too much from me: my pride, my dignity-"

"-You fucking lost all that way before you opened your legs to him," Helena looked like she could strike her little brother. "'Lena, I'm trying to help you."

"Well fuck off and let me put her to bed," the baby wrapped in a moth eaten towel started squirming around in her arms. "She's tired."

"Let Malfoy see her," Evan advised. "And he can give you money."

Her grip around her daughter tightened. "He ain't going anywhere near my baby – and get that disgusting thing out your mouth, yeah? I don't want you smoking near Josephine."

Evan laughed at her, and it was the derisive, mocking laugh she despised. Nonchalantly, Evan leant against the paint peeling doorway and began kicking the scummy wall. "Have you given birth to a sixty-year-old or summit? I spoke to him this morning when you were having the geriatric and he said he ain't having his Daughter have a shitty name and shitty life – which is why he's ordered me to take her from you. Sorry Lena, but it's either this or we both go to Azkaban and the baby gets killed." Helena held the baby in her arms tighter. "He's in the other room and he ain't gonna go quietly if you don't give her up. Lena, you either give your baby to her Dad or you give her to a coroner. Your choice, but I'd go with the first."

"He ain't taking my baby," Helena growled, but her voice was not threatening like she had hoped.

"Lena, she'll have a good life with him. What do you have to offer, eh? A run down flat where she could catch diseases. Give her to him, Lena. He can give you money; he promised you fifty galleons for her and five minutes to said goodbye, and you're running into your minutes." Helena made no notion that she was going to give the baby up. "Lena, please just do it. If we go to Azkaban with the charges he's threatening us with, I'll get life and you'll get ten years. You might see your baby in a few years time. Just give her up; it's better this way."

Helena looked down at the baby she had just, almost one hour ago, given birth to and held in her arms. Planting a kiss on her baby's temple, she allowed Evan to take her from her arms and take her away for good. When Evan returned from outside, replacing his niece he had a brown bag in his hands. He threw it at Helena.

"Don't spend it all at once, yeah?"

There were only three people Helena was sure she loved in her life and they were her children. But there were many people who loved Helena in this world, and there were many who had died and loved her. The one man who loved her unconditionally was the father to her middle child, and she hoped to Merlin, that despite all the odds that he was the father to her daughter, too.

He was just in the room next to her with her daughter, and James and Lily and Remus. A Nurse had offered to take the children to the bottom floor where many other children were waiting for parents to come out of Hospital and take them home. Sirius was proud that he could finally present his newborn daughter to his friends in a Hospital and not in his flat three months after he had been born.

"She's beautiful," Lily cooed when it was her turn to hold her in her arms. "Oh she's so beautiful! She's perfect."

"She may be perfect now, but when she gets to ten or eleven then they really start to get difficult – but you'd already know that, of course."

Sirius nodded with a half-smile. "Yeah, yeah I do. I just can't be any happier – I literally cannot think of a moment where I have been happier. I wasn't even this happy when I was blessed with Sybil and Castor – I – I can't put into words how this makes me feel! Oh man, it's the sensation of Gillyweed ten times stronger."

James laughed. "I think you need some sleep. Let me hold her, Lily," Lily reluctantly passed Baby Isabelle to her husband. "Hello Izzy, I always wanted a little girl – can I take you home? Can I take you home?"

"You don't want a girl; boy's are much easier to control, trust me," began Sirius. "I've raised both: Sybil's impossible to control but Castor is a breeze; you just let him get on with it. Now I have to go and do it all over again."

"It will be easier with Izzy," James promised.

"Don't call her Izzy," Sirius asked.

"Izzy, Izzy, Izzy. Daddy doesn't like calling you Izzy, does he? Well, that makes Uncle James want to call you Izzy even more. Yes he does. Yes he does."

"It's amazing how masculine Harry and Jacob turned out to be with a Father like you cooing over them all the time," Remus pointed out. It was Remus' turn to hold Isabelle now, and in his arms, she drifted off to sleep. "Sirius, are you sure she's your daughter? She's just so precious."

"Of course she is. Just because she's blonde haired doesn't mean anything."

"No I wasn't saying it because of the hair, I'm just wondering how someone like you can produce such a pretty little girl like Isabelle."

"Thanks Remus, it seems Callie got all her good looks, charm, charisma and wits from Lyds. Not you."

Remus smiled up at his oldest friend. "You know, having a daughter is the best thing to ever happen to someone."

"Did you ever want any more kids, Remus?" James asked.

"How could I when Lydia died when Callie was born?"

"You didn't _have_ to stay single just because Lydia died, Remus," Sirius said sheepishly. "You could have met other people. Dated around, slept with other women – I can't believe you haven't had sex in ten years."

"Well, being a Werewolf kinda takes the strain off having sex to be honest with you; I think it releases the harmonic energy that sex gives out... Anyway, good luck raising three kids Sirius; you're gonna need it."

Sirius didn't doubt his friend's wish when it came to raising children; it was one of the most stressful – and rewarding – things Sirius had ever had to do. "I think I'm going to write to Sybil when I get home and tell her the good news. I'll send her a picture of Isabelle as well, so if I could borrow your camera, Lily, that would be really great."

"Of course," said Lily, "I have it in my bag, actually, right now; I knew you didn't have one anymore because the dog chewed it, and I thought you'd want some pictures." She opened her bag, stuck her hand in and pulled out her camera. Her bag clearly had an undetectable extension charm, because there was no way that huge camera could fit inside Lily's tiny bag. "Just give it back when you've finished."

Sirius had the camera in his lap and smiled down at it. "Yeah, thanks Lily I will."


	27. The Tutor

_Sybil,_

_Your baby sister was born earlier today. Both your mama and sister are perfectly fine and healthy and, of course, beautiful. Eventually, we decided that we would name her Isabelle and it was a simple decision. We both knew that you loved Aria very much, but we loved Isabelle more, so we went with our decision. Actually, it was your mama's decision, and as she had just given birth to our beautiful baby girl I was in no position to tell her that we couldn't name her Isabelle._

_Both your mama and I are saddened that you can't meet Isabelle for another four months, but by then, the crying and screaming in the middle of the night should have died down a bit so you won't be as frustrated to hear it. _

_On the back of the picture I've included a picture of Isabelle and some details and she is very eager to see her big sister!_

_Know that we all love you lots and can't wait to have you home again._

_Mama, Dad, Castor and Isabelle._

Sybil was anxious to see a picture of her sister, so slammed the letter over on the other side and took off the picture of her little sister and held it in her hands. She was a pretty thing and was wriggling around in her blankets and moved her arm in a gesture that Sybil detected was a wave. Smiling proudly, Sybil turned the photograph over where on the back, written in her father's handwriting read:

_Isabelle Rose Rosier-Black  
__12th March 1993  
__7lbs 8oz  
__Anxiously waiting to be greeted with the love of her big sister Sybbie._

Sybil smiled and put the photograph to one side. Normally, she would have loved to spend more time cooing over her little sister, and perhaps spend more time thinking about her and how they didn't choose the name she preferred, or perhaps write instantly back to her Dad, but she had a potions essay due in just under one hour. It was kind that Professor Snape gave her by Saturday lunch to give it in, but he made her sit in his office and finish it as he marked homework from other years. It was an incredibly tedious task, and she had been sat there for two hours already, and Professor Snape had presented her with the letter as a sort of 'reward' for working for two hours straight.

"If you had started your essay last month when it was assigned, you might be spending Saturday morning with your friends and not in detention with me," Professor Snape commented dryly as she put the letter aside.

"What could we do? We're not allowed anywhere without Professors anymore," she replied.

"It's for your own safety."

Sybil reached back for her quill and dibbed it in her ink, while musing. "I don't see why it has to apply to the Slytherin's; there have been no attacks on us."

"Hogwarts isn't willing to take the risk," Professor Snape revealed.

"Do you know who the Heir of Slytherin is, Professor?" Sybil inquired.

Professor Snape glanced up from his work briefly. "No. Do you?"

"No – do you suspect anyone, Professor?"

"Get back to your work," he instructed.

Sybil hated Professor Snape's office. It was a gloomy room with stone walls and a stone floor and every noise seemed to echo. Though it was March and the weather should have been reasonably warm, Sybil was cold, and she could have sworn that earlier on that morning she could physically see her breath swirling around in front of her. The grey, gloomy walls were lined with shelves of glass cases containing slimy and nauseating things of a variety of colour, smell and appearances. There could have been about nearly one hundred different things in each glass jar. Perhaps it was a hobby, Sybil wondered: collecting strange things in jar. If so, he was better off collecting stamps.

She continued writing her essay: _The swelling solution causes the enlargement growth swelling of someone's limps and can cause pain. There is an easy potion than can be brood to reduse the swelling of lims. _Until she was stopped by a question prompted by Professor Snape.

"Shall I dispose of your letter, or do you still need it?"

Sybil glanced at the letter. "You can throw it, Professor – but please leave the picture."

She folded the letter and passed it to Professor Snape. Without a word he added it to a pile of parchment and disposed of them into the roaring fire. In those precious moments that Snape's back was turned, Sybil was in awe of the photograph of Isabelle once more, and Snape caught her doing so, so inquired upon the photo.

"It's my sister, Mama just had a baby," Sybil announced with a giddy smile. She showed him the photograph, but Snape paid little heed. "Her name's Isabelle."

"Lovely – get back to your essay."

Once more, Sybil did as instructed. After three minutes (she had counted out of boredom) of tapping her quill against the desk, Professor Snape snatched Sybil's essay and read through it. Judging by the expression on his face, Sybil could tell that he was not pleased with her work.

"You realise you spelt '_limbs'_ incorrectly _twice_ and also misspelled '_reduce'_ in your last sentence – and you spelt '_swelling_' differently a total of five times – and spelt '_potion_' P-O-T-U-N. Miss. Rosier, do you have some sort of learning disability or are you just idiotic?"

"I'm not an idiot, and I don't have a disability, Professor."

"Can you read?"

"Of course I can read!"

"Of course I can read, _Professor_," Snape corrected. He shuffled through a few essays he was marking – apparently from her own year – and held it out to her. "Read Mr. Zabini's essay."

Sybil took the parchment off him and stared at the words on the parchment. Blaise had such neat handwriting. It was cursive and his 'Y' at the end of a word would curl off, and the thought of his dark hand running over this paper, delicately tracing words onto it made her stomach flutter, and desperate for this not to be evident, she cleared her throat and began to read.

"_The swelling solution is a simple potion which causes the inflantation – the infatuation – the in-fla-mat-ion of the victim's limbs. For the effect to occur the potion only needs to be poured on someone's lambs – limbs – on someone's limbs for the swelling to start._"

She was stopped by Professor Snape taking the essay from her. He put Sybil's on top of the pile and shook his head. "You need help with your writing, Miss. Rosier. I suggest while you are away for summer you ask your parents to inquire upon a tutor; a twelve-year-old girl should be able to write the word '_limb'_ correctly and pronounce it, too. I'll write them a letter, saying that I am concerned with your progress in literature – as well as potions, too; if you don't get at least fifty percent on your end of term exams then I'm afraid I'm going to have to fail you."

Sybil's face dropped. "P-Professor – they're in three months! How am I going to learn all this?"

Snape studied her for a few moments, before opening a drawer on his right hand side and pulled out a small piece of parchment. He pushed it along the desk to Sybil. The list included five names and different times and dates beside each name.

"The bottom three can tutor you in potions. There are times and days beside each of the student's names which tells you what time and what day their study sessions are. All of them occur in the library, I suggest you attend one as soon as possible."

Sybil was reluctant to do so. "Must I? Can't I have Blaise help me – he's very good at Potions."

"Miss. Rosier I have taught you and Mr. Zabini in the same class for two years and it's hard enough getting you both to concentrate on your work under adult supervision, so I dread to think what you would be like in the common room. For each session you attend ten house points will be awarded to Slytherin. I strongly advise you attend these sessions. So pick your person and time and day and I expect to see you then."

_Angelina Johnson  
Sunday 12:00 – 2:00  
Tuesday 4:00 – 6:00  
Thursday 5:00 – 7:30_

_Tobias Astaire  
Saturday 1:00 – 5:00  
Sunday 12:00 – 4:00_

_Cedric Diggory_

_Saturday 1:00 – 3:00  
Tuesday 5:00 – 7:00  
Thursday 4:30 – 6:30_

Those were the three Professor Snape had recommended for her and those were the times available. No one in their right mind would offer to give up their free time and tutor people, so Sybil could only guess that they were forced to do with their options being: either fail your year or teach some stupid young years. Sybil recognised only Angelina Johnson and Cedric Diggory from the Quidditch teams. Angelina was a rough-looking girl that Draco had insulted with Sybil right beside him laughing, and Cedric was a handsome fourth year she wouldn't mind spending her time with. He was however, a Hufflepuff, and did seem boring.

"Who's Tobias Astaire?" Sybil asked.

"A sixth year Ravenclaw – are you interested in him?"

A sixth year Ravenclaw was all she needed to brighten up her four hour Saturday afternoons. "I'll go with Cedric Diggory."

"Excellent. I'll find him and tell him that his twelve o'clock study session has been filled. You will attend today and meet him in the library at his given time. As for now, you can go down to Breakfast."

Sybil was relieved with the release, and grabbed her Potions book, quill and ink and stuffed it in her satchel. She grabbed her photo of Isabelle and rushed out of Snape's creepy office. She almost ran down the corridor, giddy with joy. She said the password at the entrance and was allowed entry to the common room, where she found Pansy sat by the fire, with Draco and Blaise and Tracey Davis.

"You'll never believe who's tutoring me in potions now!" She exclaimed as soon as she arrived.

"You're being tutored in potions?" Was Blaise's immediate question.

Anxiously, Tracey asked "who?"

"Cedric Diggory!"

Tracey's chubby jaw widened. "I wish I was failing potions now! I'm stuck with that Leanne bitch from Hufflepuff as my tutor for History of Magic."

"You shouldn't be pleased you're failing potions, Sybil," Pansy reminded in her shrill voice. "Even if you have got a gorgeous tutor."

The three girls shared a snigger, while the two boys watched on nonplussed. "What's so great about Cedric Diggory?" Draco asked.

"He's only the most _handsome_ person in the whole of Hogwarts and Sybil gets to be tutored by him! Has he got a girlfriend?"

"I don't know," Sybil admitted. "I hope not!"

"He's sixteen," Blaise added. "Do you really think he's going to go for a twelve-year-old when he can have those sixth and fifth year girls?"

"I'm thirteen, actually and if he wanted a sixteen-year-old girlfriend then he would spend his time learning about the inside of her mouth rather than the inside of my potions cauldron."

"Good luck with Diggory then because you're going to need it."

"Fuck off," Sybil suggested.

Blaise could be a right arse sometimes, Sybil acknowledged as she stormed away from him. She walked through the Girl's Corridor until she reached her dormitory and pushed open the door. The room was abandoned; Tracey and Millicent had probably gone down to lunch but Pansy had remained in the common room. This gave Sybil the opportunity to dress in silence and plan what she was going to wear for this older boy. The brunette doubted she stood a chance with Cedric because it was like Blaise said: she was only thirteen and Cedric was fifteen – possibly sixteen and would be interested in girls his own age.

But that didn't stop her. In life, Sybil had always got what she wanted, and right now she wanted a handsome fifth year Hufflepuff. If anything, he might cut the study hours shorter if it went disastrously (or longer, if it went well).

Her last boyfriend had been Harry's ex-best friend from St. Oliver's: George Hastings. She had never particularly liked George, she only agreed to go to the school disco with him because he was the only one with the courage to ask her, so to avoid going there on her own, she accepted him. They'd been dancing together and it was getting a bit too uncomfortable for Sybil and then he'd tried to kiss her. Sybil had screamed and punched him and she was taken from the disco by her Mama early. She'd promised not to tell her Dad, but the following day she'd heard Sirius say something along the lines of the event that had just occurred. She'd been so furious at her Dad that she'd thrown a banana at his head without even touching it. So that was the story of her almost first kiss and her first time with magic. And to think she'd mocked Millicent Bulstrode for not kissing anyone just the other week.

She wouldn't let anyone know about that story, so pulling on her black jumper and skirt; she brushed her hair back and washed the ink off her skin. There were incorrectly spelt words etched onto them from where she leant on the ink.

How dare Professor Snape accuse her of having a disability and being an idiot? If she had a disability that would make her a squib. Her teachers at St. Oliver's had always been worried by her – _intimidated_ by her, without Sybil even meaning to. They knew she was different, they could tell that by how different she was than everyone else in the class. When she was playing with children in the playground she'd say words to them in loud voices and make them cry. When they asked her what the words were she said they were magic spells, and when they asked her about magic spells she told them she was a witch. After that they thought she was crazy and had to attend meetings with other children in her class. Sybil never liked those meetings and would get angry when she was called a liar. When she threw a book at George Hastings and knocked over a bookshelf, people got scared of her and isolated her. She had no friends in St. Oliver's because she was different and didn't do well to hide it.

She'd heard her mama and dad say it was because of the time she spent away with them. Those must have been the years she spent with her father – the year, that if she strained her memory hard enough she could make out pale, faceless blobs talking to her and teaching her how to read and write. She remembered another little boy and a crazy woman with a high voice, and someone with hair she used to pull on. If she remembered their names, it might help her remember some more, like who they were and who her family was.

Sybil glanced at the clock on the wall in her dormitory. It was quarter to one so she barely had fifteen minutes to get to the library on an empty stomach. She grabbed her bag and swung it over her shoulders. She threw her robes on her trunk and softly propped her picture of Isabelle against the family portrait she had on her bedside and left the room.

In the common room, the four sat in the arm chairs had gone, so she was spared with an awkward conversation. By the time she got to the Entrance hall she had only nine minutes to get to the library which was barely enough time. Sybil cast a fleeting look to the Great Hall where four tables worth of food were waiting for her, and her stomach started rumbling at the thought of all that food waiting for her and her getting none. Turning her back on it, she rushed up the staircase before it moved again, moved down three more corridors until she got to the library and looked around the room for Cedric.

Only one minute left and there was no sign of him. There was no sign of anyone else tutoring anyone else, so lingering at the entry, she tentatively stepped in and began moving through the tables, looking for the handsome blonde boy she had only ever encountered in the hallways. Not liking to be kept waiting, Sybil threw her bag down on a chair and sat down beside it, tapping at the timber table and tracing the letters: _AM _underneath her fingers.

It was the longest minute Sybil had ever known, and when she glanced up at the clock at the wall, there was a boy blocking her view. It was Cedric; she knew instantly and hoped to Merlin she wasn't going to screw this up. He studied her and opened his mouth to begin to say something: "So you're Sybil: the girl who's ruining my Saturday afternoon?"

He was so handsome, with his blonde hair pushed back and his pretty brown eyes which matched his maroon jumper he wore covering his – what Sybil hoped – was a muscular body. Biting her lip, Sybil replied: "I don't want to be here, either."

Cedric merely smiled and sat next to Sybil. He pulled out a bulky looking textbook from his bag – a fifth year potions book, Sybil noticed, and he began flicking through it.

"What are you studying at the moment?" Cedric asked.

"Uh-" Sybil tried to remember what she had last learned in potions, other than Blaise's mother's marriage failing again after his step-dad had fallen ill with a fateful disease.

"Potions isn't a very interesting subject, is it?" Sybil agreed that it wasn't. "But Professor Snape clearly thinks you need help in it. So if you could turn your textbook to page one-three-five – I think that's what Snape asked me to cover with you today? Swelling Solution was your latest essay and he said you failed."

"Yeah, I'm really bad at Potions."

"You won't be after a few Saturdays, Tuesdays and Thursdays with me – you don't have any clubs like Chess or Gobstones on those days, do you? Only they're really the only nights I have because of Quidditch."

"I don't do Gobstones," Sybil scoffed as if appalled by the mere suggestion she would take part in such a thing. "Or Chess, either."

Cedric laughed, which caused Sybil to blush. "Hey, your Dad is Sirius Black, right?"

"Yes," said Sybil.

"He's on the Wizenagamont – yeah I wrote to them yesterday looking for a work placement in the summer holidays. He's one of the top Wizarding lawyers, isn't he?" Sybil nodded, and Cedric looked at her in appreciation. "You must be pretty rich then?"

'Pretty rich' didn't even cover it. Trying not to show off, Sybil gave him a meek and humble smile. "I suppose so."

Smiling at her, he flicked the page Sybil had turned to onto the right one. "Our two hours begin now."

* * *

Just two weeks after Cedric and Sybil had had their first tutoring session; Cedric would be missing one Saturday afternoon. In all fairness, it was his Quidditch match against Gryffindor, but Sybil would miss him nonetheless. She wanted to watch him play; she had only ever seen one game Cedric play and that was last year against Slytherin and she couldn't remember it. Sybil had wanted to go down and watch it, but no one would go with her. Draco was going, but the last thing Sybil wanted was to listen to Draco foul-mouth the players and Harry. Though Sybil was not friends with Harry anymore, she didn't like how Draco spoke about him. Daphne might have gone, but the two of them were no longer on speaking terms after the Duelling Club, something that Sybil felt as a great loss to her.

She spent most of her time with the boys, now. Tracey and Millicent had sided with Daphne on their argument, but Pansy (knowing Sybil was a key to getting Draco) remained friends with Sybil and took a habit to tagging along beside her. So Sybil had a new pet: Pansy the Pug.

She never spoke to Daphne anymore, and Daphne wouldn't even look at her. Sometimes Sybil would think to start a conversation with Daphne, but thought better of it, afterwards. After a few days of that, she gave up hope on them never becoming friends again, which saddened her.

But after two weeks, the arguing came to a halt. It was the day of Cedric's Quidditch match, and Sybil had woken early to get the first shower and, of course, to avoid Daphne.

She walked down to the Great Hall in silence with Theodore. Neither of them particularly liked each other, but he put up with her because she was friends with Blaise, and Theodore wasn't exactly spoiled for choice when it came to friends. So they entered the Great Hall together, and without a word Sybil split off from Theodore towards the Hufflepuff table.

Cedric and Sybil didn't very often speak to each other outside of class, but Sybil weighed out her choices: a definite awkward breakfast of silence with Theodore or a possible awkward dismissal from Cedric. As she was walking over to the Hufflepuff table, it was pretty obvious what her choice was.

She went over to the boy in the canary jumper, and he was talking to one of his Hufflepuff friends. He nudged Cedric when she came over, and he turned his body to face her. He nodded at her, and Sybil took that as acceptance to talk to him.

"Hi Cedric," she said casually.

"Hullo Sybil," Cedric returned.

There was a silence, which Sybil hastily filled with: "Good luck for today. I hope you win."

He smiled. "Thanks. Gryffindor's a tough side to play."

"Tougher than Slytherin," the boy interjected, with a laugh.

"Tougher than Ravenclaw," Cedric shot back.

"Ravenclaw can beat Hufflepuff any day," the boy argued.

"Not when you're a chaser."

Sybil – not wanting to be stood there awkwardly, asked the boy: "You play for Ravenclaw?"

He laughed. "Don't you know?"

Sybil shook her head. "I don't like Quidditch very much."

"Don't you even watch your house team?" He asked, startled, and Sybil shook her head. "How patriotic for you."

"She thinks it's boring," Cedric supplied.

The boy looked injured. "What's your name, kid?"

"Sybil Rosier," Sybil supplied. "Who are you?"

"Roger Davies – is this the snake you're tutoring, Cedric?"

Sybil scowled. "Snake?"

"Term for Slytherin's," Cedric dismissed calmly.

"It's not very nice," Sybil told Roger. "We don't call you Raven's."

But Roger shrugged his shoulder, and took a drink from his goblet. "Are you watching the game today, Sybil?" Cedric asked politely when it went quiet again.

"No," she told him. "I just came over here to wish you luck. Try and catch the snitch before Potter, won't you?"

"I'll try," Cedric promised and then he took a sip from his own glass. "Bye then."

"Oh," said Sybil stunned at her dismissal. "I'll see you on Tuesday."

Quickly, she walked away back to the Slytherin table. Unfortunately, Theodore was alone and eating his breakfast. The thought of spending unnecessary time annoyed her, and she considered skipping breakfast just to avoid it. But Sybil was hungry, and unwillingly she went and sat with Theodore for breakfast.

"He didn't ask you to wear his lucky Hufflepuff scarf then?" Theodore enquired when she sat opposite him.

"No," she answered glumly. "Not yet."

"Not ever."

She glared at him. "Do you wonder why you don't have any friends?"

"Not very often, do you?"

"I have friends."

"Like who?"

Sybil searched her brain. "I have Pansy, and I have Tracey and Millicent. Then there's Draco, and Crabbe and Goyle and Blaise."

"Being friends with Crabbe and Goyle isn't something to be proud of," Theodore noted, lifting his knife and spreading butter on his toast. "Are you watching the Quidditch game today?"

She shook her head. "I still have my Astronomy Essay to do. I think I'll do it in my dormitory. Are you going?"

"Why would I?"

That was a valid point.

So after a slice of toast, Sybil left Theodore at the Slytherin table and joined the students exiting the Great Hall. A majority of them left to go to the Quidditch Pitch, Sybil, however, took the staircase downstairs to the Dungeons and when to her Common Room. It was surprisingly empty, with only a few students dotted around in chairs and lounging in arm chairs. Sybil went straight up to her dormitory, where she was surprised to find, that it was totally empty.

She threw her jacked over the post on her bed, opened the bottom drawer of her vanity desk, selected a clean piece of parchment, new quill and ink and her Astronomy book and scattered it on her bed. She also picked up her Defense against the Dark Arts book to lean on as she lay down on her bed and begun the essay.

_Mercury is the closest planet to the sun and is also the smallest. It takes eight-eight days for Mercury to orbit, where as Earth takes three-hundred-and-sixty-five. _

Then Sybil paused. Why did she choose to write about Mercury? She didn't know anything about Mercury. With a sigh, she crumpled up the parchment and aimed it at the bin near Tracey's bed – but it missed, and landed on the floor beside a tissue. So she started again, this time, writing about Venus.

_Venus is the second closest planet to the sun, and takes two-hundred-and-forty-four days to orbit. It is the second brightest thing in the sky after the moon. Venus is named after the Roman goddess of love and beauty. It is the closest planet to Earth, having a similar shape and gravity mass._

Sybil sighed again. This was hopeless; she was never going to get this right. She loved Astronomy though, but writing essays for it was impossible. So for the next half an hour she tried to configure as much about Venus into her essay as she could – often getting distracted by the latest song that came on the radio.

When Daphne entered the Dormitory, _Unfaithful Bitch _was playing by _The Mardi Boys_, and Sybil was humming along while sucking her quill. She tried her best to ignore Daphne, but when she turned the radio off, Sybil snapped at her.

"What the fuck did you do that for?"

Daphne frowned. "Did you go down to the game?"

"Obviously not," she retorted. "Put the radio back on."

"So you haven't heard the news?"

"I might do it the radio was on-"

"-There's been another attack," Daphne informed coolly. "But you obviously don't care, thinking your music is more important than our safety."

Daphne turned on her heel to leave, but Sybil threw down her quill and sat on her bed. "No, wait. What's happened?"

The younger girl walked back to Sybil's radio, but unlucky for Sybil, she did not turn it back on. "While everyone was down at the game, two more people were attacked."

"Oh, Muggleborns?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes, obviously. Were they Muggle Borns?"

"Yes, obviously," Daphne mimicked. "Do you care to know who they are?"

"Yes, obviously."

Daphne had a right mind not to tell Sybil, but it was not something that should be used in their argument, something as terrible as this. "You wouldn't have heard of her: Penelope Clearwater, she's a Ravenclaw, but the other you would have; she's in our year: Hermione Granger."

Sybil's stomach fell, and in reaction she clambered off the bed. "Hermione was attacked?"

It seemed impossible to make sense of; Hermione was such a clever girl – how could she have been attacked? If any Muggle Born was going to be saved, Sybil thought it would be Hermione. Just two weeks ago, when Hermione had made a fool of herself in Potions by answering one of Professor Snape's questions, Sybil thought to herself how lucky they would be without Hermione there. But she thought of Harry, and how devastated he would be. Then that was what she realised she wanted to do: she wanted to speak to Harry.

Sybil walked towards the door, but Daphne asked her where she was going. "The Hospital Wing," Sybil claimed. "Harry will be there – I need to tell him something."

"We aren't allowed to leave our Common Room," Daphne informed. "Whatever you can tell him can wait."

But Sybil, who could not break a habit of sharing secrets with Daphne, told her this: "She came to see me after Harry spoke to the snake. I think she reckons that Harry being a Parstlemouth has something to do with the Chamber of Secrets. And – and I told her that if she's looking for clues about me or our friends being the Heir of Slytherin, that she should look a bit closer to home or that she'll be next! Oh she would have told Harry – he'll think it's me opening the Chamber!"

"He could never think that," Daphne soothed.

"How couldn't he?" Tears began to sting her eyes for a reason that Sybil could not understand. "I've been such a _bitch_ to him and Hermione, and now that she's been attacked... Don't tell anyone I said that Greengrass, I shouldn't have said that out loud." But Daphne only smiled at her and embraced her in a hug. Glad of being with her best friend again, Sybil wrapped her arms around Daphne and buried her face in her shoulder. "I'm sorry for being a shitty best friend," Sybil whispered. "I'm sorry."


End file.
